


Change of Heart

by Melusine6619



Category: The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-23
Updated: 2014-07-23
Packaged: 2018-02-10 01:29:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 21
Words: 40,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2005809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melusine6619/pseuds/Melusine6619
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After finding her lover with someone else, an Elf woman decides to leave her home and live in the most unlikely of places--Mirkwood. There she finds it hard to keep her vow to never trust her heart to anyone else again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This is not a new story; it was a way to deal with my frustrations over the writing, and then the re-writing, of what became The Prince and the Nightingale. In fact the premise of this was my original idea for my Legolas/Dulinneth romance, but I listened to bad advice, leading to the aforementioned frustrations. So I began writing this one, and posted it anonymously as an experiment. There have been a few minor changes to the text since then.

Lanterns glowed through the windows as Halloth, head cook to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel, gave the large kitchen table one last swipe with the cleaning cloth and eyed its gleaming surface. It was spotless, save for the few things set in readiness for the morning meal. Just as it should be. She looked around the large airy room one last time, saw that it was as clean and neat as the table, and nodded in satisfaction.

“I think we’re done here,” she said, glancing to her fellow chefs. “Until tomorrow then.”

Her staff filed out one by one, bidding cheerful good-nights to her as they left. Halloth covered the candles and listened as they sputtered out. When that was done she locked the great double door behind her and followed them outside into the warm night. The city of Caras Galadhon filled the trees before her as she hurried toward the southern edge of the city, to the flet and the home she shared with her lover. 

It had been her own home before Elhadron had begun courting her two years ago. He’d moved in piece by piece until there had been no thought of him returning to the warriors’ barracks. Her sister had warned that he was taking advantage, but Halloth had brushed the concern aside. She was a grown woman, after all, and her older sister had always been overprotective.

A sensation of something being not quite right closed in around her as she reached her house, even though the door was closed, just as she’d left it that morning. She stretched out her senses, but there was nothing to tell her what it might be that caused this disquiet. Perhaps she had been working in the Lady’s kitchens too long this day. She shrugged and shook her head, brushing the feeling aside. And then she heard it. A whisper of voices.

She drew her dagger and opened the door slowly. The main room was empty, the candles on the table unlit. Elhadron must still be at the practice field. She wanted to believe that. But her bedchamber door was closed and from behind it the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh reached her ears. Everything inside Halloth went still. Her heart, her lungs, her stomach, everything seemed to collapse in upon itself. Only the ringing in her ears let her know she lived yet. It grew more thunderous the longer she stood there outside, listening. Listening. Something hit the floor near her feet and she glanced down. Her knife lay there, and she flexed her fingers. She didn’t remember dropping it.

“Yes, fuck me,” her lover’s voice came to her ears. “Ride my cock!”

Elhadron’s voice stirred her into motion again. She strode forward, leaving the door ajar behind her. She knew what to expect, but she gasped all the same. There was Elhadron, her lover, his golden hair in disarray upon the pillows, his eyes closed. His hands held onto the hips of the woman who was riding him, while his lower body thrust up into her again and again. 

Anger flared swift and sudden. Halloth strode forward to the bed, caught the other elleth by her long dark hair and jerked her head back. The other woman scrambled up and off Elhadron. Halloth released her hair and shoved her toward the door. 

“Get out!” she snarled.

“My clothes.”

Halloth scooped the dress off the floor and threw it at her, hitting her in the face. 

“You’d better hope I never see you again.”

Elhadron rose smoothly from the bed as if nothing had just happened and approached with a placating lift of his hand.

“Melethen, this means nothing, we were just--.”

“You too. Get out.”

“Halloth, she means nothing, ‘tis you I l--.”

“Please, spare me your lies. You’re a worthless, vile piece of …” She could not think of names crude enough to call him.

Elhadron snorted as he drew on his leggings. “If you weren’t so boring in bed this wouldn’t--.”

“Don’t you dare make this my fault,” Halloth retorted. “Just get out and take your things with you before they become my dinner fuel.”

“Halloth--.”

“Out!”

She watched his progress toward the door, and then, “Elhadron, wait.”

He turned back and Halloth shoved the bedclothes into his face. “Take that trollop’s stench with you.”

Once he had gone, she collapsed upon the floor. Tears blurred her eyes, but she made no effort to brush them away. She was a fool. Aye, she had heard the rumours, spoken when others thought she was not paying attention, but she had not listened. And they were all true, every one of them. That when she worked hard in the kitchens all day her lover was tupping every elleth he could seduce into his bed. Even her sister had tried to warn her, but she had not heeded her words either. 

Maihel. She would go to her. Anywhere. She couldn’t stay here. She couldn’t sleep in that bed. How many others had he taken to her bed? Not even bothering to pack anything for the night, she left her home and made her way to her sister’s talan. 

Halloth didn’t have to say a word when she reached her sister’s door. Maihel took one look at her, drew her inside and into a long embrace.

~~~~~

Later that night, tucked into bed, Halloth considered her options. She could stay in Lorien, and hope the laughter and “I told you so” looks would die down in a few decades. And then there would be the pitying looks from well-meaning friends. Even her older sister hadn’t been able to hide it just now when she’d tucked her into bed after Halloth had told her the whole sordid tale and then broken down into tears. So perhaps staying in the Golden Wood wasn’t a good idea. She could sail, she supposed, and reunite with her parents. She did miss them, now more than ever. But was she ready to leave Middle-earth?

She did not know. But one thing she did--never again. Never again would she give her heart and her trust to any man. Never again. 

 

Halloth—Hidden Flower  
Elhadron—Faithful Man  
Maihel—Soft Girl


	2. Chapter 2

By morning she still had no answers. 

This was the land of her birth, and the place where she had spent the four centuries of her life since. But to stay and endure the looks and laughter did not appeal to her. Was it worth it then to leave her home because of her lover’s perfidy? 

Ex-lover, she reminded herself.

The scene the evening before played again in her mind and she gripped the knife more tightly as she began to chop the fruit. Would that it was him and the woman she had caught him with beneath the blade. 

Deceitful. Slice. Philandering. Slice. Orc dung. Slice, slice. 

Her entire body began to shake and her insides spasmed again. She set the knife aside and pressed the heels of her hands to her blurry eyes, trying to blot out the vision, but the words he had uttered filled her ears instead. “If you weren’t so boring in bed …” 

“Damn him. Damn him thrice to Sauron’s pits.” 

She breathed in deeply to calm herself, picked up the knife again and began slicing the fruit more carefully, before she cut off her own fingers in her fantasy of cutting up Elhadron’s penis. 

She scooped up the fruit and dropped it into the bowl of batter she had already prepared, stirring until it was thoroughly mixed. When that was done she ladled a portion out onto a hot pan to cook. She watched it disinterestedly as it bubbled from the heat. 

If she left Lothlorien, where would she go?

She had heard that King Thranduil wanted a new head cook. Celeborn and Galadriel had made no decision yet who they would recommend. That would be far enough away for her purposes. But then again it was Mirkwood. She had heard the tales. Even the Lady of the Light cast a wary eye toward the north.

Rivendell, then? Lord Elrond would certainly take her in, and it was rumoured to be beautiful and protected. But after a moment she dismissed the idea once more. Although there was less travel between there and Lothlorien than there had been, it still occurred. Her chances of running into Elhadron, while few, would still be more than she wished.

Mirkwood it was, then.

Her dear sister would try to talk her out of making such a precipitous decision. After all, it had been made in the wake of witnessing the man she was in love with rutting like an animal with another female. To leave Lorien over that, to leave behind those she knew and loved, her family … Would she be doing the right thing? 

Halloth sighed and flipped the griddle cake over in the pan. She had little choice, really. Stay here and live with the humiliation, or run away and build a new life elsewhere. And whether it was right or wrong, whether it seemed cowardly or not, she simply could not remain in the Golden Wood. 

She removed the cake and placed it onto a plate and poured more batter into the pan. No, Mirkwood was the best choice. The people there were Silvan too, though they were ruled by the Sinda king and his family. She would feel at home there among her Woodland kin, where she would have felt out of place in Imladris. Furthermore, she knew that Thranduil kept his court in the northern part of the woods, which was as far from Caras Galadhon as possible, without sailing to Valinor. And, more importantly, there was little communication between the Elves of Mirkwood and those of Lorien.

Mirkwood, in spite of the spiders and any other number of fell beasts she had heard about, would be her refuge. If her Lord and Lady released her from their service, and if King Thranduil would accept her in his realm.

She jumped at the sound of Maihel’s voice. 

“Are you planning to feed the entire city this morning?”

Halloth glanced around the kitchen. The table, window ledge, and countertop were covered with an assortment of baked goods, from loaves of bread to fruit-filled tarts and everything in between. 

“I’m sorry. I was…preoccupied,” Halloth murmured, her face reddening. She turned back to the stove, embarrassed.

“We’ll pass it around to the single warriors at the barracks.” Maihel’s own face turned pink. “I mean…”

“I know,” Halloth hurried to reassure her. “It’s all right. I am done with tears.” I hope.

“What will you do now?” Maihel asked softly.

“I’m going to see if Galadriel and Celeborn will recommend me to King Thranduil as his new head chef.”

“But why? It’s so far away, and dangerous. You’re not thinking this through because you’re hurt and angry.”

“Yes, I am. Who wouldn’t be if they walked in on their lover with someone else riding him like a …” She paused as the awful image filled her mind yet again. Would it ever go away? “And I’m thinking clearly too, Maihel. It is impossible for me to stay here now, you must see that.”

“I do. And I understand. Only, stay a little while longer. It might not be as bad as you think.”

“No? ‘There goes Halloth, whose lover drops his leggings for anything that propositions him.’ Oh no, sister, I have heard enough of the talk and the laughter. Knowing it’s true makes it all the worse. How could I not see?”

“You were in love.”

“I was stupid. Well, no more. I will not be swayed by a handsome face and a comely body. I would sooner bed an Orc. At least it would be honest in its treatment of me.”

Maihel made a disgusted face. “Surely not! Halloth, there are other men out there, men who are noble and kind as well as handsome.”

Halloth forced a laugh at her sister’s shocked expression, but then quickly sobered. “Think what you will, but I won’t allow myself to be so deceived again. I couldn’t bear it.”

“Halloth--.” 

“Please, do not try to dissuade me, Maihel. My mind is made up. If it makes you happy though, I will speak with the Lord and Lady, see if they have any wisdom for me.” Halloth glanced out the window. “And now I must go, or I shall be late.”

She hurried to retrieve her cloak from the peg in the entranceway and put it on, fastening the clasp at her neck and pulling the hood up over the sun-coloured hair she had coiled in braids atop her head. It was more to keep the mocking eyes away than for any protection from the weather, but Halloth doubted it would serve even the former purpose. 

She turned and kissed her sister, who had followed her to the door, on the cheek. “I will see you this evening, and I will replenish your stores,” she said, her voice sombre. “Farewell.”

~~~~~

The kitchen was quiet, the noon meal past and the evening one not yet in the preparation stages when Halloth felt a presence behind her. She turned, not really surprised to see Lady Galadriel standing there, and grateful that she was, for she had not had a chance to request an audience with her. Halloth quickly curtsied, forcing a small smile to her lips. 

The Lady was not fooled. “You are troubled,” she said, her eyes searching Halloth’s face before peering more deeply. 

Halloth did not look away. She was used to the Lady’s habit of reading one’s thoughts, one’s heart. “Yes, my Lady,” Halloth answered.

“You wish to leave us.”

At that, Halloth finally lowered her eyes. “I do not wish it. I feel I must.”

“You have been dealt a blow that you feel has shamed you,” Galadriel continued. “Do you not see that the shame is Elhadron’s instead? You had a faithless lover. It is not your merit that is in question, but his.”

“But I have been a fool, my Lady, and everyone knows it.”

“I see no fool before me, only a person with a generous heart who gave it to one undeserving of it.” Galadriel raised Halloth’s chin and looked intently at her once more. “Though having had it wounded you wish to lock it away forevermore. That is a pity, for you would then deny one who would give, without restraint, both his heart and his soul into your keeping. In your zeal to guard your heart you will cause further pain, to yourself, and to one who is truly worthy of you.”

Halloth said nothing. She could not tell whether the Lady was merely giving advice or had foreseen something. As Galadriel herself on occasion said, what she saw were as often possibilities as certainties. 

“That is my choice to make, is it not?” she asked softly after a few moments. “And I would still leave, if you see fit to release me from your service. There are many who could fill my place here.”

“Of course you must do as you think best,” Galadriel replied. “And where is it you wish to go?”

“Mirkwood, my Lady.”

The Lady of Light’s smile was enigmatic. “An interesting choice. And one I do not think you will come to regret, in the end. It shall be done. I will ask my husband to write his kinsman on your behalf.”

Halloth curtsied again. “Thank you, my Lady.”

Galadriel smiled again, in a way that made Halloth wonder if the Lady had seen something she did not wish her to know about just yet, then turned and walked away. Halloth watched her leave before turning back to her task with a sigh and a shake of her head. How could it be wrong to guard herself against further hurt, and what harm would it cause others if she did? No, there were some things not to be borne, some hurts too great to risk again. She would rather spend the rest of eternity alone than feel again such despair as now suffocated her.

She had no intention of heeding the Lady’s words of caution.


	3. Chapter 3

There was no going back now.

The thought both excited and terrified Halloth as she waited with her escort for the Mirkwood warriors who would both guide and guard her on her journey to King Thranduil’s domain. She drew her cloak against the chill early autumn wind and tried to relax. 

Three months had passed since the night she had found Elhadron with another. In that time, while she had dealt with her grief and humiliation as best she could, a letter had been dispatched to the Mirkwood king by messenger hawk and shortly afterwards one had been returned. She was welcome in Mirkwood; she might stay as long as she liked. Several of his men would meet her at the Old Ford of the Great River, Anduin, and from there they would travel on to the Forest Gate and then eastward to the king’s halls.

It had sounded easy enough, but weeks of riding had proven otherwise. She could not complain of the company; Haldir and his men were polite, if reticent, but she did not mind as she herself was no jovial travelling companion. Whether they were embarrassed because they were aware of what had happened she did not know, and nor did she ask. At least she had been well-guarded.

She remembered her last confrontation with her ex-lover. She had met him by accident, or so she had thought at the time, as she was retrieving some of her belongings from her own talan and moving them to her sister’s. Elhadron had said he would forgive her, take her back. He had told her again how much he loved her, that it would never happen again. As if she would take the word of one who had already proven himself so untrustworthy. As if she would settle for someone of such low character and base morals. If he had wanted to fuck others he could have had the decency to break things off with her beforehand. Two years of her life she had wasted on him, and though it was not long for an Elf, she regretted that she had even lost one day to such a man. And she had done nothing to be forgiven for anyway, she fumed again. 

She pushed the thoughts away with a grimace and shifted her stance slightly as she stood waiting. She had not been accustomed to riding horseback and only recently had become used to it. The pace Haldir had set had not helped, but at least she could ride now without her backside protesting every step. She only wished she would not have to travel the rest of the way in such a manner, but there it was. It was faster to do so than go by foot.

“You may as well get comfortable,” Haldir said. “They might not be here for a while yet.”

No sooner had he spoken than one of the guards called out, “Riders! From the north.” 

Halloth peered in that direction. In the distance she could see a group of six, all of them sitting tall and straight upon their mounts. They rode swiftly, and soon she got a better look at them. They were each dressed in brown and green, to blend in with the trees when they hunted, she surmised. On each man’s back she saw a quiver filled with arrows fletched with green and gold feathers, and bows of dark wood. She watched curiously as they rode closer and closer, and then they were there at the campsite.

One nudged his horse ahead of the others, and Halloth suppressed a gasp when she got a good look at him. His braided hair was spun gold and mithril, the late afternoon sun catching in the strands as if to show it to advantage. His features were chiselled, with high cheekbones on either side of a straight nose, and his lips were firmly moulded yet shapely. His blue eyes were clear and sharp. He was the most handsome ellon she had ever seen, and she felt her heart skip a beat when his gaze locked with hers and turned warm. 

She ruthlessly quashed her reaction to him. Handsome he might be, but she knew what lurked behind such a comely visage. She raised her chin in defiance.

His eyes widened slightly and the smile that had been forming altered into a tight line across his face, but only for a moment. He nodded to her and slipped from his horse in one fluid motion.

“Haldir,” he said, greeting the Lorien Elf with a clasp of shoulders. “Forgive our tardiness. We had an encounter with Orcs just before dawn. Nothing serious,” he added with a grin, “but we had to teach them the wrath of the Wood-Elves ere we could continue on.”

“Well met, Legolas,” Haldir replied. “Good to see you.”

Legolas glanced at the woman who stood to one side, aloof, and let his gaze linger. She wore her hair coiled in heavy braids atop her head, as he had seen some Human women wear theirs. The severe style showed her delicately sculpted face to perfection in a way he doubted she had meant it to. Her eyes were grey and sombre over fine cheekbones flushed pink from the wind. Her nose was small, slightly upturned. Her lips were full and rosy, perfect for kissing. As if she sensed his scrutiny she drew the hood of her cloak over her head and turned away.

He drew Haldir aside and lowered his voice. “This is the one we’re to escort back? What do you know of her?”

“Very little, save for my orders. And that she’s a fine cook,” Haldir answered. “Come, I’ll introduce you.”

They walked together to the elleth. She turned disinterested eyes upon them when they reached her. Haldir, apparently, was used to such behaviour. He smiled at her as he indicated his friend.

“Halloth, this is Legolas, son of--.”

“At your service, my Lady,” Legolas interrupted. He bowed his head, right arm crossed over his chest. “I’m pleased to meet you.”

“Likewise,” she answered. “If you will excuse me,” she murmured. 

Legolas frowned as he watched her walk away. He did not expect total deference, but being open and affable by nature, he was not used to being dismissed out of hand either, even if he were not Thranduil’s son. 

“She has been like that the whole way,” Haldir said. “I do not know why. There are rumours, but who can say what is true and what is not,” he added.

“No matter,” Legolas said. He was not angry, only puzzled. “Perhaps she is merely tired.”

Beside him Haldir shrugged. “Perhaps.”

~~~~~

Legolas finished picking the venison clean from the ribs he had chosen and tossed the remains into the fire. Haldir was right. Halloth could cook. He could not recall tasting such meat since his father’s favourite cook had sailed.

He watched her as she quietly ate her own portion of the food, taking no part in the conversation going on around her. In the firelight her features were softer still, and he wondered at the frigid and brittle front she wore like armour. It felt wrong for so beautiful a woman to be so hard and cold. 

He rose and casually moved about the camp until he was beside her. Crouching down, he nodded toward the carcass of deer where it continued to warm over the fire.

“That was a fine meal. The king will be pleased to have so good a cook in his halls again,” Legolas praised her.

“Do you think so? I hope. . .”

But her voice trailed off when she met his eyes and her heart tripped again. She had noticed him getting up and wandering about but had paid no heed to where he was going. She wished she had so she could have moved elsewhere. Now it was too late. She lowered her gaze and turned away to face the flames. “Thank you,” she said primly, hoping he would get the message and leave her alone. He did not. “We have a long journey?” she asked.

“Close to a month at least,” he replied. “But if our luck holds and we ride hard, we may reach Thranduil’s halls sooner.”

“Then I suppose I had better get some rest,” Halloth murmured, rising. A hand wrapped around her wrist. Sparks of heat shot up her arm and rushed to settle in her breasts. Valar, this one was even more dangerous to her equilibrium than she had at first thought.

“Are you so weary of my company already?” Legolas asked. He felt her tremble and released her arm. The last thing he wanted to do was frighten her. “Stay, please. I only want to know why you wish to live in Mirkwood. It is a great deal different from Lothlorien, as I’m sure you understand.”

Halloth shook her head. “That I cannot reveal, even to the king himself. As for Mirkwood’s dangers, I am aware of them.” More so now than ever.

Legolas eyed her carefully. “Keep your secret then, as long as it means no harm to my king or my people,” he said softly.

“I am not in the habit of hurting others,” she retorted, her voice sharp, but low. “Nor would I seek to harm one who would welcome me into his lands.” She stood quickly to go to her sleeping mat, but he blocked her way before she was aware of him moving too. His face was in shadow and her inability to see his expression left her feeling even more vulnerable. 

“Forgive me. It’s my duty to protect them. I did not intend to be rude.”

“I am tired,” she said, defensively crossing her arms over her chest. “Excuse me.”

“We leave at dawn,” Legolas said, stepping to the side. “Be ready.”

Halloth nodded and walked away. Legolas followed her with his eyes, noting how she kept herself apart even from the Lorien warriors who surrounded her. He had a feeling if she did not need their protection she would have slept as far from them all as possible. 

What had made her this way, so remote and forbidding? It was not her natural manner, anyone could see that. In her he sensed warmth and gentleness. And passion. One only had to get past her icy walls to bask in its heat. 

It would be a challenge, he decided, as he walked back through the camp to where his own men were grouped. He laid his cloak upon the ground, stretched out upon it and smiled at the stars overhead. He liked a challenge. And this one would yield great rewards, if he took it up. 

He thought of the way she had looked at him in that brief instant before she had dismissively shuttered him out and the way his heart had leapt in acknowledgment. He remembered the way her skin had felt beneath his palm and the fire that had jumped through him as he touched her. There was no question of him backing down or walking away. 

He was already falling for her.


	4. Chapter 4

Halloth suppressed a sigh as the one called Legolas fell back from the lead and nudged his horse into place beside hers. She did not like him. He made her feel uncomfortable. Her skin prickled and she felt hot whenever he drew close to her. Or their eyes met. Or when she felt his gaze upon her. It was disconcerting, and she wished he would stop. One would think he had never seen a woman before. 

She had been riding with them for over a week. They had entered Mirkwood through the Forest Gate, which was no more than a gap in the trees, she had discovered, two days ago, or so she reckoned. It was hard to tell, as so little daylight filtered through the trees above it seemed constantly dark; night and day blurred together. 

His smile was warm as he greeted her. He knew she did not like him, but he could not help wanting to be close to her. In so many ways. But she was like a skittish colt he had owned once, afraid of all around her. Legolas was a patient man, however, and he would win Halloth’s trust, just as he had won that of the once frightened horse. He had made it a point to ride near her as often as possible, even though she bristled in his presence and tried to ignore him. She was polite enough not to ignore conversation, however. “How do you fare?” he asked her now.

“Well enough, thank you,” she responded stiffly. 

“I apologize for the pace,” he went on. “The sooner we reach Thranduil’s halls the better.”

She could at least agree with that. Once they reached the caverns she hoped she would never see him again. “How much longer will it take?” she asked.

“A few more days. It will depend on what obstacles we encounter.” 

“Oh.” She glanced around nervously, thinking she heard a rustling in the surrounding undergrowth.

“Don’t worry,” Legolas told her, “these are some of my best men. You’re safe with us.”

She glanced at him. He sat tall and straight, his eyes constantly scanning the trail ahead and the trees that grew close to it. He looked so at home here, as feral as any of the wildlife they might encounter. She shivered, thinking again how dangerous he was, in so many ways. Safe was one of the last things she felt with him nearby.

“Are you cold?” he asked, noticing her tremble slightly. 

“A little,” she answered, latching on to his mistakenly attributing her reaction to him to the chill autumn air. “But I suppose I shall get used to it eventually.”

“Yes, you will. I’ll see to it that you get a heavier cloak in the meantime,” Legolas offered.

“That’s not necessary,” she replied primly, shaking her head for emphasis. 

“Oh, but it is. Winters are harsh here. They come early and last long. I’ll petition the king.”

“He listens to you?” she asked, disbelief evident in her voice.

“He listens to all his subjects,” Legolas replied, smiling tightly. “Even me.”

He looked to his left suddenly and reached for his bow, just as quickly nocking an arrow. Halloth watched in alarm as his men did likewise. She felt evil pressing in on them, and a dread coldness. The hair on the back of her neck rose, and her heart began to pound in fear. 

“What is it?” she asked, her voice hushed.

“Spiders.” 

The voice came from behind her and she turned to look at the one called Selcheneb. He faced away from her, his own weapon drawn, looking into the dark trees. Halloth looked around. The others were like-wise facing the forest, a protective ring around her. She shivered again.

The attack was sudden. Halloth screamed as the large, fierce-looking creatures rushed forward, their hairy legs rustling, their fangs snapping. They seemed to come from all sides. Legolas brought the first one down with an arrow aimed into its belly when it reared up to strike. One spider feinted between two of the archers and lurched toward her. Her horse reared in panic and it was all she could do to stay on. Its front legs came crashing down on one of the antennae of the beast where it had fallen, thick arrows protruding from it. It reared again. 

Halloth screamed again as the little brown mare took off, charging away from the spiders and the warriors fighting them. She heard her name shouted and a curse, but all she could do was hang on as her horse bolted between trees, as terrified as she herself was. She held onto the reins with all her might, ducking low branches as they raced into the woods, further away from the trail.

The horse stopped suddenly and Halloth went tumbling off its back. Her breath catching, she tried to sit up, but she was shaking too hard, and she lay there, breathing in the scents of damp dirt and moss. Ai, Valar, what had she gotten herself into? Would it have been so bad to stay in Lothlorien, where there were no dark, oppressive trees, no spiders? 

Something sounded behind her and she rolled to her knees, reaching for the only weapon she had. Her fingers closed over the empty scabbard where she kept her dagger, and she cried out in dismay. She looked around frantically for it, but she saw only leaves and a few dead branches. 

“Relax, it’s only me.”

She looked up at him. He was casually wiping a long knife on a cloth, cleaning something blackish off it. Blood? 

“Are you all right?” he asked softly.

She shook her head slowly, then more frantically. What sort of stupid question was that? No, she was not all right. “I want to go home.” 

“You are home.”

“I want to go home,” she repeated. “Where it’s safe and warm and there are no spiders—Spiders, for Valar’s sake, as big as horses!”

“Actually they’re bigger,” Legolas said, moving closer to her. She did not protest or shy away from him when he hauled her to her feet. It was not a good sign. “It’s part of life here. You said you were prepared.”

“I’m not, I’m not. I want to go home,” she repeated, still shaking her head.

“Halloth, stop it,” he ordered. He pushed her up against a tree trunk. She was trembling, paler than usual, babbling incoherently now. Legolas had seen this reaction a few times in his youngest warriors their first times out hunting. He tried to think of the best way to deal with her. If she were one of his men he might cuff her, but slapping women had never appealed to him. Instead he bent his head, his mouth covering hers as she started to speak again. 

She tried to push him away, her small hands shoving at his shoulders, but he kept kissing her. How could he stop? She tasted sweeter than the exotic fruits his father traded for. He brushed his lips over hers again and again, their softness feeding the growing need inside of him for more of her. Gods, how he wanted her. He teased her lips with his tongue and then let it slip past them. 

Halloth gasped at the intrusion into her mouth, but it only gave him more access. His tongue swept against hers, toyed with it, circled it. Drew on it. She felt an ache begin in her breasts. As if he knew, he insinuated one hand between them, cupping her right breast, his thumb unerringly finding the nipple and flicking it to further tautness. The ache spread lower, centred between her thighs. Halloth felt her pussy begin to moisten and longed for him to touch her there too. Whimpering, she tried even harder to get away from him, but he held her fast between the rough tree and his lean, muscular body. She was trapped. Trapped and wanting. Ai, no! She could not want him; she barely knew him. She did not want to want him, or any man. She could not want him to pull her to the forest floor and fuck her. She could not want that. Only she did. Her struggles increased when he pressed his hips close and she felt his cock, hard and thick against her, and realized he wanted her too. Or at least to rut with her.

“I knew you’d be this way,” he said, his voice harsh in the silence. He could feel her need, could smell her arousal, sweet and beckoning. The temptation to raise her skirts, to lift her against the tree and thrust his prick into her heat roared in his blood. He was about to do just that when her cold voice stopped him.

“Let me go,” she demanded. “Get your grubby hands off me.”

He released her immediately. “You’re back to yourself I see. Or was the Halloth grinding against me, all but begging me to fuck her, the real you?”

Her hand flew out and caught his left cheek. She bit back a cry at the sting. “How dare you? How dare you touch me as if I were a common whore for your amusement?”

“You’d be surprised how much I’d dare,” he countered, his eyes darkening further.

“Highness!”

Legolas ground his teeth together in frustration and turned toward the intruder. The warrior was leading Legolas’ horse as well as the one Halloth had ridden from Lothlorien. “I’ve found her. She’s all right. Get back to the others. We’ll follow in a moment.”

Halloth blanched, then went rigid. “Highness?” She recalled now the way he had cut off Haldir when he was being introduced. Halloth thought of the deference shown to Legolas by his men, the commanding manner he possessed. It should have been obvious. He was more than a captain to them, he was. . . . “Highness?”

“Legolas Thranduilion, at your service,” he confirmed quietly, inclining his head toward her. 

She tried to slap him again, but he caught her wrist before her hand could strike. 

“Once is quite enough,” he warned her. “Now then, since you are no longer about to faint or go into shock, I suggest we get moving. It’s a long ride before we camp for the night.”

And with that he left her sputtering behind him as he turned on his heel and headed back toward his men. A noise sounded to her left and she jumped, expecting to be caught and killed by whatever it was. Halloth looked around but saw nothing in the gloom. She was not reassured. Reluctantly she followed Legolas—Prince Legolas, muttering curses as she hurried to keep up, lest she get lost in these dark woods. 

He had lied to her. Lied, and then acted as if it was unimportant. But it was to her. And she had wanted him. Ached for him. She cringed, unable to decide who she was angriest with. Him. Or herself. 

 

Selcheneb—Wise Eyed


	5. Chapter 5

He should not have kissed her. 

Legolas stared into the darkness from the tree branch on which he perched. He had taken sentry duty almost right away once they had made camp. From below the sounds of smells of the evening meal being prepared drifted up, along with the conversation of his men. Halloth was even more quiet than usual.

He should not have kissed her, he berated himself again. The slap had been well-deserved, for Halloth was right. He had gone from planning to woo her slowly to treating her like a whore whose services he had just purchased. Not his finer moment, he acknowledged with a frown. But she was so very kissable. His cock stirred again at the memory of her pressing her body close to his in her struggle to push him away, even as the hands at his shoulders had tried to pull him close. Doubtless she would not remember or even own that part. Instead she would place the blame solely on him, which he knew was right, but not all. She had wanted him too. 

Still, he had crossed a line he had not intended to cross. Not with Halloth. At least not yet anyway. He was not above pushing a woman just far enough to give her a taste of what might be between her and him, if he sensed that she truly wanted to lie with him. But he was never as aggressive as he had been today, never forced his attentions that far. It was certainly not the way he had meant to proceed with Halloth. He had meant to take things careful step by careful step.

And he had ruined it all because the instant he had kissed her he had lost control. She would not give him a chance now. He had at last earned the scorn she had heaped upon him from the moment they had met. By his actions he had created one more obstacle he would have to work around. She already disliked him, distrusted him. It was a bitter thought considering his own feelings. 

That had come as a surprise to him, to realize that he could fall in love, and so quickly. He was not a romantic. But he had known she was the one for him, from that first day. His mother would have nodded sagely and told him that sometimes it happened like that, just as she would surely have boxed his ears had she been witness to his behaviour today. 

Well, he would just have to find a way to show Halloth he was not the savage she thought he was. Not completely. He would back off, just far enough to make his presence known and felt, but not enough to be a threat. He would let her get to know his home, let her get to know him. If it took a while longer for him to gain her trust, so be it. She was worth it.

 

~~~~~~

Halloth rolled over onto her back and sighed. She could not sleep. Above her the treetops rustled in the breeze, and it should have been a soothing sound but it was not. It reminded her that he was up there somewhere, keeping watch.

Her heart skipped a beat before thudding rapidly, as she thought of him, as she recalled, unbidden, what had happened earlier. Angrily she sought to quell the memory of his mouth on hers, his hand on her breast, to tamp down her body’s treacherous response to it. But she felt hot still. Felt such white hot desire as she never had before. Her couplings with Elhadron had been pleasant, nice, but she had not felt singed afterwards. As if every particle of her being had been taken apart and rearranged.

The memory of Elhadron and his betrayal was enough to suffocate any remaining embers from that afternoon. She focussed on the hurt and the bitter feelings of rejection. It was enough to make her think straight. 

There was only one thing to do—keep Legolas as much at a distance as possible.

But how? Neither pointed silences nor sharp words seemed to drive him from her. At this she frowned. What would her sister think of her behaviour? No doubt she would have scolded her, and Halloth could not blame her. She had not been a complete shrew, but she had been unbearably rude. She flushed in embarrassment. Even if Maihel were not here to see, Halloth felt shame for behaving in a way so unlike herself. It must stop, not because she particularly cared what Legolas thought of her, but for her own self-respect.

And with that last thought she rolled back to her side and tried once again to sleep.

~~~~~

It was early the next morning and Halloth had followed her ears and nose to a small stream to wash her face and re-fill her water flask. One of the prince’s men had started to accompany her but she had waved him back. She wanted a little privacy, and the creek was not far from their camp. 

A prickle of awareness started at the base of her spine and worked its way up. Her heart began to beat faster and a flush spread over her chest. She closed her eyes and counted slowly to ten before turning. He was not there, and for an instant she thought her senses had deceived her, but then he landed softly on his feet in front of her. 

“Peace,” he said, advancing a step forward. He held up a hand, palm toward the treetops. “I only wanted to make certain no harm comes to you. Why are you alone?”

“Garavon offered but I thought--.”

“The forest is not safe, Halloth. Even so close to the others.”

“Oh,” she replied. She started to make a sharp retort but he was right; after yesterday she should have thought better of leaving alone. Swallowing her irritation at him, she nodded, “You’re right, of course. I’ll remember that from now on.” 

Legolas’ gaze sharpened as he scanned her lovely face. Had he missed something? Perhaps she was still feeling some leftover shock from the spider attack the day before and the Halloth who snapped at him would reappear soon. “Did you sleep well?” he asked.

“Very,” she lied.

“We’ll leave after we break our fast,” he told her. 

“I’ll be ready.”

She waited for him to go away but he did not. Instead he stood looking at her, his eyes roaming her face and body in that way that made her feel naked before him. More heat suffused her being and she raised her chin to ward off the combined sensations of vulnerability and excitement he elicited with his searching regard. Above all, she must remain calm, centred. 

Legolas cleared his throat and shifted his gaze toward the stream, then back at her. His hands bunched into fists as he fought to control the urge to walk forward and pull her into his arms, his resolve be damned. “I owe you an apology,” he said harshly. He closed his eyes, shook his head. “For yesterday. ‘Tis not my habit to force myself on women. I only meant to keep you from going into shock. It won’t happen again.”

“How can I trust you?” she asked, her voice soft as the memories again overwhelmed her.

“You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

“I’m not sure I can do that.”

Legolas pressed his lips together for a moment. “Do you distrust everyone or just men?”

“I don’t have to answer that,” she retorted, forgetting her promise to herself.

“You just did.” He looked her over carefully again. “The question is why?”

“I’m going back to camp,” Halloth said, starting to move past him. He caught her shoulder in a hard grip, dropping his hand immediately when she winced. She glared up at him. “What do you want from me?”

Legolas’ eyes darkened and he leaned close to her. His lips next to her ear, he murmured, “I want you in my bed. I want to kiss every part of your body, lick you, taste you. And I want to fuck you, to feel you tight and hot and wet around me. I want to hear you screaming my name, feel you tearing the flesh off my back as you come. Again, and again.” He left out how he wanted to court her, make her his, belong to her. He sensed that she would bolt if he did. Smiling softly, he stepped back a little. “But for now I’ll settle for something more than cold civility between us.”

Halloth bit the inside of her cheek to stop the images his words had elicited, but still her cheeks flamed, and her nipples tightened. Ai, the man had no decency whatsoever. “You—you should not talk like that.”

“Why not?” His gaze warm. “I believe in being as honest with everyone as possible.”

“Like you were when you cut off Haldir’s introduction?”

“My father is king. I consider myself his son and subject, and answer to my title rarely enough at home. ‘Twas not my intention to mislead you.”

“I suppose I shall have to take your word for that too,” she muttered.

“Yes,” he answered. “Now, if you’re ready I’ll escort you back to the others. And I promise not to touch you. At least not until you beg me to,” he added with a wicked grin.

“Oh!” Halloth did not wait for him but began to walk back to camp, head high. Quickly she realised it was a mistake to lead the way, for she felt his eyes continuously stray to her backside. She could almost feel them upon her, hot and hungry, stripping away her dress and her undergarments as she moved. So distracted was she that a tree root nearly tripped her, and she heard a soft chuckle at her expense.

But true to his word, he made no move to touch her, and she righted herself with a huff before continuing on.

Garavon—Wolf


	6. Chapter 6

“We’ll reach my father’s halls later this morning,” Legolas announced as he moved his horse next to Halloth’s. He knew she must be exhausted from travelling for so long but she never complained. 

They had just left camp a few moments before. Halloth now glanced down at her dark green cloak and the pale green dress beneath it. She hoped it would do. After a quick inspection to check that there were no stains from breakfast, she lifted a nervous hand to check her hastily arranged hair. The braids were smooth and in place. 

“You look quite presentable.”

“Thank you, Your Highness.” She glanced at him, wishing he would stop speaking to her in such warm and intimate tones, for it only reminded her of how he had touched her, kissed her, the day of the spider attack. He had been polite since then, most of the time, if one overlooked the heated gazes he often cast her way. Halloth chose to do just that each time she felt his eyes on her. Or she tried to, at least. It would be so much easier if she was not so aware of him. But it was as if her body clamoured for his attention, as it did now, her pulse speeding up and warmth spreading through her.

“You needn’t worry. My father is stern, but fair. I have never heard complaints from any of the servants, and Galion is almost family.”

“Do you have any siblings?” she asked Legolas now, her vow to be more courteous toward him uppermost in her mind. And she really was curious as well. He seemed about her age, or perhaps a little older, but she had never ventured to ask, nor would she. Inquisitiveness about his family was one thing, but asking about him might imply that she was interested on a personal level.

“Yes, I do,” Legolas answered, smiling. “I have both a younger brother and a sister. Orelon is just fifty years my junior, and has his own command, and Mereniel is nearly two-hundred.” 

“And what of the queen?”

“Naneth has been dead for several years.” 

His voice changed in an instant from warm to expressionless, but when Halloth looked at him his eyes were filled with sorrow. She wondered how long ago his mother had died, and how, and she suddenly wanted to pull him close and comfort him. “I’m sorry,” she offered quietly.

Legolas blinked then and his face cleared. He ventured a question of his own. “And what of you? Where is your family?”

She almost declined to answer, but his sadness over his mother’s passing spurred her to share something of her own family with him. Grief over losing a parent was something she understood well. “My parents are in Aman. My father was killed and my mother faded. My sister was already married then, and I was working in the kitchens for Lord Celeborn. We decided to stay in Lothlorien rather than sail into the West. Maihel is happy there, and I. . .” 

Halloth fell silent, and Legolas wondered what more she had meant to say. There was so much he wanted to know about her. Still, it was a good beginning, and he smiled. “Thank you.”

“For what?” she asked.

“For letting me in, just for a moment,” he softly elaborated. 

Halloth coloured and focused her attention on the horse she was riding. She had, over the course of the journey, become more comfortable around Legolas’ men. It was easy to do since they were all either married or betrothed, and behaved like gentlemen toward her. But Legolas was different. She doubted she would ever feel even close to being calm and relaxed around him. 

“I’m going to ride ahead,” he told her suddenly, and then he was off, his horse cantering past the two warriors in front. Halloth watched him go and swallowed back the guilt that rose inside her without warning. She refused to feel it. Yes, he could be charming, and yes he could behave as a prince should, but even when he was not being either of those things, when he was being roguish, she found herself attracted to him. And that was the last thing she wanted to be. She would not give him that power over her. She would not be hurt again.

~~~~~~

 

Halloth stared across the bridge and thought that someone was playing a joke upon her. Past the lines of tall beech trees, across the stream, set into the side of a hill, was a set of doors that seemed to lead into a cave. She glanced at the others, but they were smiling broadly and already had begun to canter their horses over the wooden planks toward it.

“Welcome home,” Legolas told her, and nudged his mount forward.

She frowned. This was not what she’d expected. Still, it seemed safer than the woods they had passed through. She urged her horse to follow the prince’s. 

They reached the other side of the dark and rapidly flowing water, and Halloth saw to the left and right talans built in the trees. The people that were hurrying back and forth stopped and bowed to Legolas as he rode into what proved to be a large courtyard in front of the cavern. He leapt to the ground and had just turned to walk to Halloth’s side when a girl child with shoulder length brown hair ran toward them.

“Ada! Ada!” 

Halloth watched, smiling, expecting her to make her way to one of the prince’s men, but the child was scooped up by Legolas himself. Her little arms flew around his neck as he held her close and whispered a greeting to her. Halloth’s smile froze. He was a father. Then surely he was married, she thought, a mixture of anger and shame rushing through her. That he had said and done the things he had to her when he had a wife and child waiting for him at home, that she had responded to him, sickened her.

“I missed you while you were away,” the little girl told him.

“I missed you too, but you know I have to go away sometimes.”

Halloth watched the exchange, feeling like an intruder. She would have gone inside but had no idea where to go once she passed through the doors, and no one came to escort her in. 

Legolas’ eyes met Halloth’s glacial stare and his own smile faded. He set Arassel back upon the ground and moved to help Halloth from her horse, but Garavon was there first. Legolas’ jaw tightened but there was nothing he could do about it. Besides, he reminded himself, Garavon was betrothed. 

“Who is that?” Arassel asked, drawing his attention back to her.

“That is Halloth, who has come to cook for us,” he told her. “She is the one I was sent to fetch for Grandfather.”

“She’s very pretty.”

“Yes, she is,” Legolas said, smiling faintly, glancing at Halloth. He could tell she was displeased and no doubt over the appearance of Arassel, but at least her anger was directed at him and not the child, which he would not tolerate. He had hoped to tell her about Arassel a bit later, but perhaps this was best. The two of them would meet each other at some point, and it might as well be now, before she heard any gossip. He took Arassel by the hand and led her forward. “Halloth, this is my daughter, Arassel.”

“So I heard, Your Highness,” she replied stiffly. She knelt at eye level with the girl. The child looked to be about eight years or so, and was quite pretty, with large brown eyes framed by thick lashes, a small nose, and bow-shaped lips. Halloth smiled at her, her voice warmer as she said, “Mae govannon, Arassel.”

“Mae govannon,” Arassel said. Her head tilted to the side. “Can you make honey cakes?”

“Yes, I can.”

“Will you make some for me? I have not had them for so very long.”

“I would be glad to,” Halloth answered, her heart catching at the wistfulness in the girl’s voice. She looked over her head to find Legolas watching them, his face sad again. 

“Arassel, why don’t you find Galion now? I must take Halloth to see Grandfather.”

“Yes, Ada.”

She hurried away toward the cavern doors and ran inside. Halloth rose and stood beside Legolas, waiting to be taken to the king. At last she spoke. “Will I get to meet your wife too, Your Highness?”

“I have no wife,” he replied calmly, looking at her. “Arassel is my adopted daughter. Her father was my dearest friend, and when he and his wife were killed, I took charge of Arassel, for there was no one else.”

“Oh.” She had not expected either revelation. 

“I will take you to see Father now,” he said and motioned for her to follow him into the cave.

Halloth said nothing as they entered the cave through the huge doors. She was surprised to find the inside light and airy, rather than dark and gloomy. There were many windows worked in the stone ceiling of the corridor they passed through. The walls were lined with tapestries, and Halloth glanced at them out of curiosity as they walked. They showed forest scenes mainly, though there were a few depicting events in Arda’s history, including the war with Sauron in which Legolas’ grandfather had died, along with many of his people.

“This way. Adar will be in his office this time of day,” Legolas told her. 

They veered right down a side hallway and then stopped before a wide oak door. Legolas knocked and then opened it at the loud command to enter. He ushered Halloth in before him and then moved to her side. Bowing slightly to his father, who was seated behind an immense desk, he indicated her with a smile.

“This is Halloth, from Lothlorien.”

“Your Majesty,” she said, sinking into a curtsy to the Elven king. When she rose again she gazed at him with some curiosity before lowering her eyes. He was as strikingly handsome as his son, with the same shade of silver-gold hair and eyes just slightly darker. There was a strength and virility about him that must have made many a maiden’s heart stir before, and perhaps even after, he had wed. And in spite of him wearing a tunic that was haphazardly fastened and with ink stains on his fingers, Halloth found him quite regal. 

“Welcome to our forest,” Thranduil replied. “I hope your journey was uneventful.”

Halloth blushed slightly. “There were spiders, My Lord, but otherwise it was so.”

“Yes, we do have many things to deal with here,” Thranduil agreed, eyebrows raised. “My kinsman spoke highly of you in his letter. It seems odd that you would leave the safety of Lothlorien for Mirkwood, as our home is now called, but I am not above stealing his head cook, for we are in need of one.”

“It was a personal matter, Your Majesty, that drove me to come here,” Halloth told him. “I know of the dangers and hardships in this forest, but I want to make it my home. I thank you for allowing me to come and live here.”

“Well said, Halloth,” Thranduil replied. “And you are welcome here for as long as you should wish to remain. I’ll have Galion, my butler, show you to your place of duty in the morning. I don’t know where he is now. ” He spoke next to Legolas. “See to getting her settled in.”

“Yes, Father,” Legolas said, bowing again. He turned to Halloth. “Come with me.”

She followed him again through another set of corridors. Smells of food teased her nostrils and reminded her she had eaten little that morning. Her stomach rumbled on cue and she blushed when Legolas chuckled.

“There will have been a meal sent to your quarters, and your belongings should be there as well,” he said as they turned yet another corner. He stopped in front of another oak door. “And here we are. You’re near the kitchens, but if you should need me, for anything,” here his eyes moved to her lips, lingering there, “follow the hallway back the way we came and turn left instead of right where I took you to see Adar.”

Halloth doubted she would need him but she nodded her thanks.

Legolas smiled. “Then I shall bid you good day. I’m off to find Arassel, but I hope I will see you soon, Halloth.” 

He caught her hand and raised it, kissing the back of it before she could pull it away. Then he pivoted on his heels and strode purposefully down the corridor, leaving her to stare after him, her heart racing and her skin tingling where his lips had touched it. 

She felt as if she had been branded.

Mereniel—Daughter of Joyous One, Legolas’ sister  
Orelon—Morning Star, Legolas’ brother  
Arassel—Deer Girl, Legolas’ adopted daughter


	7. Chapter 7

Halloth leaned back against the closed door until her breathing returned to normal. Ai, the man was infuriating in his boldness. He acted as if it were only a matter of time before she gave in to him. Ha! Not if she could help it. She had no desire to suffer heartbreak again and letting someone like Legolas close to her was just asking for it. A comely face and form could hide a deceitful soul more cleverly than a plain one. She had learned that truth the hard way, and it was a mistake she would not repeat. Never again. 

Her resolve strengthened, she opened her eyes to survey the room she had been assigned. They widened in surprise. Surely there was an error. It looked more like a guest’s chamber than one for a servant 

A bed dominated one side of it, a woven blanket in bright red and blue and plump pillows atop it. On the chest at the foot of it her pack of belongings sat waiting for her, as the prince had said. On the far side of the bed, set into the wall, was another door, and Halloth moved to see what lay beyond it. To her surprise it was a small bathing chamber. She quickly made use of the facilities and returned to the main room. 

Opposite the end of the bed a fire glowed warmly in the hearth. To the right of it a cook stove sat idle, with gleaming pots and pans on a shelf nearby. Beneath the shelf was a small cabinet, which held a few utensils and supplies. To the left of the fireplace, near the room’s window, was a table with two chairs, and upon it sat a covered dish and a flask. 

She walked across a thick rug toward it and raised the lid to inspect the food. There was a slab of roast boar and a chunk of bread on a plate. It was simple fare, but it smelled good, and she was hungry besides. The flask proved to contain water, and Halloth turned to the low cabinet that stood against the wall, and sure enough, it held a few dishes. 

She had just retrieved a goblet from it when there was a knock upon the door. Halloth went to answer it, wondering who could be calling upon her so soon after her arrival. A slender elleth with light brown hair stood in the corridor. She wore a richly embroidered dark blue gown that almost matched the shade of her eyes. Her ruby lips were curved into a warm smile. 

“Yes?” Halloth asked.

“You must be Halloth. I’m so sorry I was not there to meet you when you arrived. There was an emergency with a shipment of supplies from Lake Town that I had to sort out. I saw Legolas just now, and he said you were here and I wanted to say hello and welcome you,” the other female said, all in one breath. “May I come in?”

“Of course.” Halloth stepped aside to let her into the room and watched, bemused, as the newcomer swept past her so quickly she felt a breeze. The woman stopped and turned to look at her, her skirts swirling around her legs a moment before coming to rest. 

“Is your room satisfactory?” the other female asked, glancing about critically before eyeing Halloth, her face anxious. “It was the former head cook’s but if it doesn’t do, we can make other arrangements for you.”

“It’s a little more than I expected, but it’s lovely,” Halloth assured her. She felt at home already in the large, airy chamber. 

“You’re certain? If there’s anything lacking, you must let me know and I’ll see to it right away.”

Halloth smiled. “Thank you. . .” 

“Oh, forgive me. I’m Mereniel.”

Legolas’ sister then. Halloth dipped into a curtsy, wondering why she had not recognised her as being such. She had the same shape of eyes, if not the exact colour, the same set of her lips. “Thank you, Your Highness.”

“ ‘Tis nothing. It’s a part of my duties,” Mereniel told her, now noticing the uncovered dish on the table. “But I see you are about to eat. I will not keep you.”

“Oh, I would be most pleased to have your company. That is, if you have time, Your Highness.” Halloth indicated the chair. “I would very much like to learn more of my new home. And of my own duties as well. No one has said anything on that subject.”

“Trust my brother and father not to think to tell you all. What would you like to know?” Mereniel asked, sitting down. She watched as Halloth took out another goblet and poured two cups from the flask. “Thank you. But please, don’t stand on ceremony. Eat,” she said, waving her hand toward Halloth’s neglected meal.

“You’re welcome,” Halloth replied, feeling as if she were far behind in the conversation. She thought for a moment as she tore off a piece of bread and chewed it. “What happened to your former cook?”

“He and his wife sailed a little over a year ago. They missed their son, and I suppose it just seemed the right time to join him in Aman. We’ve been making do the best we can,” Mereniel told her.

“I see.” Halloth replied. “And how many work in the kitchens?”

“There are four now, including you. Medwen will be happy to have you take charge. She is a decent cook, but not very organised, and we need someone who can manage both the cooking and the logistical side of things, you know, as far as what stores we have and such. Galion and I have been making sure we have all we need, but we have many other things to tend to. It’s a boon, really, that you asked to come to us, though I don’t understand why you would wish to. I love my home, but life here can be hard, as I’m sure you’ve heard. Why did you leave Lothlorien, if you’ll pardon my curiosity?”

Halloth set down her goblet as the princess came to the last of her hurried account of her duties here. They did not seem too bad, no different really than what she had done before. But the question at the end, though not unexpected, left her wondering how to respond. Only her sister and Lady Galadriel knew what had happened that day. She had managed to avoid telling the sordid tale so far, but she felt at ease with Princess Mereniel, and she knew somehow that the other woman would not spread the story, if she were told. 

“You don’t have to tell me, if you do not wish to,” Mereniel said, noting the way Halloth had gripped the table edge just for a moment. 

At last Halloth looked up. “No, no, I will tell you. I. . . had a lover there. Some tried to warn me that he was unfaithful, but I didn’t believe them, until I caught him with another. In bed.”

“Oh dear.” Mereniel leaned forward. “And so you decided to leave?”

Halloth shook her head. “I must seem quite foolish and flighty. In truth I’ve never done anything so impulsive in my life, but I could not stay.” 

“I think it was very brave of you,” the princess replied. “Especially since our woods are so much more dangerous.”

“So I’ve seen.”

“Yes, Legolas did say something about a spider attack. That must have been frightening.” 

Mereniel paused and watched with interest as Halloth’s face coloured at her brother’s name. It was similar to how Legolas had behaved earlier. She thought now of the warmth in his voice as Legolas had told her their new cook had arrived, the way his eyes had glowed briefly. Had something happened between her brother and Halloth on the way here? Or was it merely attraction on their parts? Mereniel decided not to push to see what Halloth thought of her brother. Time would tell, as it always did. As for Legolas, he seemed to already have given his affections, and she hoped for his sake he did not end up with a broken heart. Judging by Halloth’s recent experience, he just might, unless the other woman could let herself trust again. It would be a shame, really, especially since he and Halloth were perfect for each other.

“Well, it’s safer here, near the caverns. You needn’t worry about spiders.” Mereniel pushed the Matter aside for now and rose. Halloth stood as well. “You must be tired after your journey, and I have more things to see to.”

“I suppose I am a little fatigued, Your Highness,” Halloth admitted. She followed her to the door.

“I’m glad you’ve come to us, Halloth,” the princess said, turning. “I look forward to getting to know you, and I do hope you’ll be happy here.”

“Thank you, Your Highness. I hope so too.”

~~~~~

Meanwhile Legolas had found Arassel and Galion and stood watching them quietly. The two of them were speaking in voices so hushed he could make nothing of the conversation out. His gaze softened as his eyes lingered on his daughter’s form. He could not recall when he had begun thinking of her as such instead of merely as his ward. Perhaps it was not long after she had begun calling him “Ada,” instead of Legolas. He wondered again if Dagorion would mind, if he would have accused Legolas of trying to take his place. Sometimes he felt guilty for claiming her as his own, for not objecting when Arassel had labelled him “Papa,” but he could not deny her, not when she had lost everything. He had vowed she would not forget her parents; he would tell her more of them as she grew older, but he loved her as if he had sired her himself.

He cleared his throat and the two of them stopped and looked his way. Arassel rushed to him and he enfolded her in another embrace. 

“Thank you, Galion. I’ll see to her now,” he said, glancing toward him. The butler nodded and turned to leave. 

“I’m glad you’re back, Ada,” Arassel whispered. 

Legolas nodded, his throat tightening again. She still clung to him when he had to leave and he wished he could alleviate her fears of losing him too, but he was a warrior, and he could not lie to her. There were many things he could shield her from, but not that. 

“I’m glad I’m home too, sweetling.” He sat down and drew her into his lap. She settled against him and he pressed a kiss to the top of her head. “Now, what were you and Galion conspiring about?”

“Nothing,” she quickly replied, shaking her head.

“Nothing? Mmm. Very well then.” He had his suspicions, as his Begetting Day was drawing closer, but if she was planning to surprise him somehow he would not ruin it for her. “Have you kept up with your studies while I was gone?” he asked instead.

“Yes, Ada.”

“Tell me what you have been learning,” he urged.

She did, running through her latest lessons with him. “I do not like Quenya very much,” she added crossly.

“It’s a difficult tongue but you’ll get used to it,” he told her. “Much lore is written in High Elven, therefore you should know it.”

“I do not wish to read,” Arassel said, her little voice impatient. “Can I not learn what I need to know from you and Grandfather?”

“And how do you think I came to know as much as I do?” he countered, turning her round so he could look at her. 

“Because you are older.”

Legolas chuckled. “Aye, I am that. But many things I have learned from books, and they have served me well. And they will you, if you take the time and trouble.”

“I will try harder then,” she reluctantly promised after a moment, not wanting to let her papa down. “But I still don’t like it.”

“No one said you have to, sweetling,” he replied. “Very well, enough of lessons. What else have you been doing while I was away?” 

Arassel settled back against him once more and Legolas listened, smiling, as his daughter filled him in on all her latest adventures. A sense of peace washed over him. It was good to be home.

 

Medwen—Shapely Maiden  
Dagorion—Son of Battle


	8. Chapter 8

Halloth was awake and ready when a sharp rap sounded upon her door. She smoothed her grey skirts and went to open it. An Elf with piercing green eyes stood there. His sombre black robes contrasted starkly with his silver hair. He had an air of authority about him almost equal to the king’s, but his smile was surprisingly friendly and made him look like a youth about to do mischief. 

“Good morning. I’m Galion. I’ll be taking you to the kitchens.”

“Thank you, Galion. Good morning to you. I’m Halloth.” She could not help but return his infectious grin. 

He held out a bundle of dark blue cloth toward her. “Before we go, Prince Legolas bade me bring this cloak to you.”

Halloth frowned slightly. She had forgotten, in the aftermath of the spider attack that he had promised to see to a warmer cloak for her. Now she stared at it, not wanting to take it, but it would raise questions if she did not. Reluctantly, she accepted the finely woven garment and set it down atop the storage chest, noting that it was soft and light and not something a mere servant should own. She wondered where it had come from and vowed to give it back at the first opportunity. “Would you convey my thanks to His Highness?” Halloth asked stiffly, picking up her apron. 

“I will.” 

Galion stood aside for her to pass and they moved into the corridor. He led her toward the right. “You’ll find the larder well-stocked already, as winter is coming on,” he said as they walked. 

“That is good to know,” Halloth replied. “Princess Mereniel spoke of some of my duties, but can you tell me of the daily routine?”

“Of course. The king and his family are awake early, even before most of the servants. Usually they eat in the dining hall with the nobles and their families, but they may also require meals where they work, and from time to time they’ll come to the kitchens. Especially the princes if they’re going hunting.”

“I see,” she murmured, dismayed at the thought of Prince Legolas invading her domain, where she had thought to be safe from his overtures, and from her own traitorous responses to them.

Galion went on, “We also provide for those who have fallen upon misfortune, or those families who have lost loved ones in battle, so you will have a great deal of cooking to do.”

Halloth nodded. It had been Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn’s policy as well, and she was glad to see it in place here as well.

As they entered the kitchen the sound of laughter dwindled, before stopping completely. The aroma of bread baking filled the air and Halloth glanced around, noting the massive fireplace and stoves along one wall, the shelves filled with pots and pans, the large table in the centre of the room, the sink. Between the rows of shelves doors were set into the walls. By the time she had taken that in, she became aware of three stares trained upon her, and Halloth felt suddenly self-conscious and nervous. Would these women see her as an interloper of sorts? She forced a smile, hoping that would cover her anxiousness.

“Good morning,” she said. “I’m Halloth.”

One of the women moved to greet her, her lips curved upward and her light green eyes sparkling. Her brown hair was pinned away from her face. “You’re the new head cook. We heard you had arrived. I’m Medwen.” She turned to draw a female with hair just slightly darker and large blue eyes to her side. “And this is Linnien, my daughter.” 

Another woman stepped slowly forward. She wore her black locks in braids down her back. Her gaze swept over Halloth suspiciously, her smile of welcome not quite meeting her grey eyes. “I’m Cuguneth.”

Halloth nodded to each of them. “I’m happy to meet you all, and I wanted to compliment, and thank, whoever prepared my meals yesterday. They were delicious.” She paused and smiled again at each of them. “I know I’m replacing your head cook, but for now I want to work beside you and merely learn how you carry out your duties.”

“We’ll be happy to teach you,” Medwen replied. “Won’t we, ladies. In the meantime, back to work.”

“Yes,” two voices replied, one eagerly, one less enthusiastic.

Galion cleared his throat. “I have things to see to elsewhere, but if you have questions, ask one of the ladies here or send for me.”

“Oh, yes. Thank you,” Halloth answered, tying on her apron and smiling once again at the butler before he hurried away. 

She followed Medwen to one of the stoves, where porridge bubbled in a huge copper pot. The other woman offered her a taste. “It’s very good,” Halloth said, though it seemed a bit bland to her.

“I don’t know. I’m sure it could use something,” Medwen disagreed.

“Perhaps a bit more salt,” Halloth suggested carefully.

Medwen retrieved a large container of the seasoning and added a spoonful. Halloth stirred it in and tested the hot oats again. She nodded her approval. “Perfect.”

The other woman beamed. “As you can see we serve a hearty breakfast,” she told Halloth, indicating the other stove where Linnien and Cuguneth watched pans of frying bacon and sausages. 

“Let’s get to it then, shall we,” Halloth replied, happy to be able to cook something other than game roasted on a spit over a fire.

~~~~~

When the morning rush was over, and a large stag was slowly roasting in the hearth, Medwen led Halloth on a tour of the kitchen. She pointed to the shelves that were placed at intervals along the walls. “We have plenty of utensils for cooking, even when the king hosts large parties.”

“Does he often have them?”

“Oh yes. Mostly men from the towns east of here. And Lord Elrond visits with some of his people, but no more than every century or so. But we have plenty of food as well,” she added, pointing toward the many containers on the shelves.

Halloth went to inspect them and noted with a practised eye the quantities of flour, salt, sugar, spices and varieties of dried nuts and fruits each box held. She was delighted to find there was a jar of honey as well. “Is there more in your larder?”

“Certainly.” Medwen led her to a door. She lit a candle and motioned Halloth to follow.

The pantry was large, with shelves carved into the stone and every one was filled with staples to re-supply those in the kitchen, Halloth was pleased to see. Medwen led her out and opened another door. This next chamber had braids of onion and garlic hanging from the ceiling. Bins of fruits and vegetables were stacked neatly on the shelves. “It seems we are indeed well-stocked.”

“Yes, and we’re expecting more items soon. Dates and figs and apples from the south,” Medwen replied, leading her back out of the chamber and closing the door. She turned toward another and opened it. “This is where we keep our meats.”

Halloth glanced inside to see carcases of smoked game hanging from hooks in the ceiling. Shelves held slices of smoked meats and fish in huge baskets. 

“And here is where we get our fresh fish,” Medwen told her, leading her to yet another door. Here steps led down toward a rapidly moving stream that ran beneath the cavern itself. Large poles and nets rested against the near wall to catch and hold the fish that even now Halloth could see swimming toward the top of the water.

“Ingenious. Everything has been thought of here.”

“We won’t starve, if we’re ever under siege,” Medwen agreed.

“Is there a chance of that?” 

“I don’t know. But King Thranduil is always prepared for it, just in case.”

“That sounds very wise.”

The two returned to the main room in silence, and Medwen went to check on the venison. Halloth turned to the table, her lips pursed as she thought of the little girl named Arassel and her eager question about honey cakes. It was a plea she could not resist, especially not after having learned her story of loss. “Medwen,” she called, “would there be any harm in my baking something just for fun?”

Medwen looked over at her. “Of course not, as long as it doesn’t interfere with the noon meal. Besides, it’s your kitchen now.”

Halloth smiled as she gathered the necessary ingredients and began to mix the batter.

~~~~~

A week passed and Halloth settled into a routine. She rose early and spent her days in the kitchen, or in the gardens, for the last of the autumn vegetables were being harvested. Her nights she passed alone in her room, reading the one book she had brought with her, or patching her meagre supply of clothing. It was a nice, calm existence, just the way she liked it. 

This morning she was in the kitchen before everyone else, long before the sun rose. She had just removed a loaf of bread from the oven when a thrill of awareness shivered up her spine. Her heart thumped hard in her chest before leaping into her throat. Slowly she removed the loaf from the pan and set it on a board to cool. Halloth felt him walking nearer, smelled his scent, and her knees began to shake and her hands to tremble. She wiped them on her apron and turned around.

He was leaning casually against the table, watching her, his gaze filled with the warmth that she found so disconcerting. She had not forgotten how handsome he was, though she had certainly attempted to these last few days. He was dressed as he had been on the trail, in dark browns and greens. She tried not to notice the way his belt emphasised his trim waist and broad shoulders, and the way his breeches clung to his long legs. Halloth acknowledged him with a quick curtsy. “Good morning, Your Highness.” 

Legolas smiled. “Good morning, Halloth.” He moved a step nearer. “How are you faring?”

“Very well, thank you.” She curled her hands in her apron. “Is there something I can do for you?”

At that Legolas’ smile faded and his gaze fastened on her lips. Oh yes, there was something she could do for him. He had not seen her for a week and all he wanted to do was pull her into his arms. But he could not. He had sworn to himself as well as to her. “Yes, actually. Orelon and I are going hunting. I wondered if we could have something packed for us.” 

“Of course,” she replied, glad to be distracted. She hurried to gather some of the dried venison before he could say more. Hastily she wrapped it in a cloth and began to slice bread.

“I wanted to thank you,” Legolas said, “for baking the cake for Arassel.”

“It was nothing.”

“On the contrary, for one who has so recently lost her mother, who used to bake them for her, it was a very big something. I have not seen her smile like that since before her parents were killed.”

Halloth glanced at him. “How long ago did it happen?”

“It has been nearly two years now,” he told her. 

“It must have been awful for her.”

“It was. It still is at times,” he answered softly. “But she no longer cries herself to sleep at night.” 

Halloth’s heart filled once more with pity for the child. She could not imagine losing one’s parents at such a young age. It was fortunate that Arassel had someone to see her through the pain, though it surprised her that it was Legolas who had taken her in; he did not seem the type. She frowned and quickly passed the food his way. 

His hand covered hers, his callused fingers gently brushing her softer skin, and Halloth swallowed as a tremor of desire worked its way through her. Legolas let her go after a heartbeat and tucked the food into his pack. She moved away and gathered fruit to chop, hoping he would get the hint and leave. He did not. Instead he grabbed a fig from the pile and popped it into his mouth, chewing as he watched her work.

Acutely conscious of his presence, she plied the knife with careful motions. She could feel his gaze on her, could feel the heat of his body as he stood close by. Her own responded to it, to him, as it had on the journey here. She stopped and breathed deeply, hoping that would calm her, but it did not. Trembling now, she moved the knife again and felt it slice into her finger. 

She looked down, staring stupidly at the blood as it seeped out and bubbled, a stark contrast to the pale skin around it. Before she could react, Legolas caught her hand and raised to his lips. He drew her finger into his mouth and sucked it gently. Halloth’s stomach flipped over and fluttered with excitement. She jerked her hand away and went to the sink to wash the injured digit before pressing a cloth to it.

“Are you all right?” he asked, moving close again. 

“Yes, I’m fine,” she snapped. 

“Let me see,” Legolas commanded.

His tone of voice brooked no disobedience. Halloth opened the towel and let him lift her hand again. He examined it quickly and drew her to the cabinet where emergency medical supplies were kept. There he opened a jar of salve and spread healing ointment on the cut. 

“It’s not deep,” he said. “Just a few layers of skin.” 

Halloth thanked him grudgingly. “Now will you let me get back to work?”

He leaned toward her. “Halloth--.”

“What’s taking so long, brother?” a voice called from the doorway. “Ah. Good morning. . .”

Halloth had stepped around and away from Legolas. The warrior who stood before her closely resembled Legolas in his facial features, but his hair was chestnut and his eyes were a shade between blue and green. He smiled at her, a friendly, open expression. She returned it briefly.

“This is Halloth, Father’s new head cook,” Legolas announced, walking over and placing himself almost between them. “This is Orelon, my brother,” he said to Halloth.

Halloth dipped into a curtsy. “Your Highness.”

“A pleasure, My Lady,” Orelon murmured, lifting one of her hands to his lips and kissing the back of it lightly.

Legolas scowled. “We had better be going. The deer won’t wait for us.”

His younger brother glanced at him, then back at Halloth. So that was the way of it. Orelon was not one to try to come between his brother and those he was interested in, but he was not above needling him now and again either. He winked at Halloth. “Well, as Legolas says, it’s time to be off, but I hope to see you again,” he said, before sauntering toward the door.

Legolas turned back to Halloth, his lips tight. He raised a hand to tuck a stray curl from her forehead, but he let it fall to his side instead. “Until next we meet,” he said quietly. 

Before Halloth could reply, he too, was gone. She drew a deep, calming breath of air, and hurried back to her work. 

 

Linnien—Sweet One  
Cuguneth—Dove Girl


	9. Chapter 9

As soon as they reached the privacy of the stables Legolas rounded on Orelon, his fist connecting hard with his brother’s jaw. He smirked at the sight of his younger crashing back into the wooden stall behind him.

“Manwë’s balls! What was that for?” Orelon muttered as he struggled to his feet.

“You kissed her.”

“Who? Halloth? I kissed her hand, you arse! What’s gotten into you?”

Legolas glared at him without speaking as his jealousy simmered. What had gotten into him? Halloth, of course, and the smile she had given Orelon. Not once since they had met had she smiled at him.

The blow caught him unawares and his head jerked to the right. He slowly turned to face Orelon, who was crouched to attack again. 

“You’ve got no say in what I do or with whom,” Orelon goaded. “And if you’re having trouble wooing the lady, take it up with her. Not me.” 

“Just stay away from her,” Legolas growled, turning on his heel before he did his brother real harm. He drew his roan gelding from its stall and headed outdoors, anger still running through him.

Orelon said nothing as he watched Legolas walk away. He regretted the taunt, wished he could take it back, for it seemed he had hit closer to the mark than he had intended. He went to his own bay mare’s stall and drew the lively horse from it, deep in thought as he followed his brother. 

~~~~~

The remainder of the morning passed without fuss in the kitchen. With breakfast done and luncheon cooking, Halloth stood at the table, sorting newly harvested and washed vegetables, but her mind kept rebelliously turning back to Legolas as she worked. What was it about him that made her want his touch when he was near? True, he was a virile and handsome ellon, and his nearness made her whole body flame with desire, but she could not let that rule her. She barely knew him, and what she did know of him made her wary of lowering her guard. 

She looked down at the vegetables and sighed; she had mixed up the ones to discard with the ones to keep. This was no way to run a kitchen, wool-gathering over someone like the prince. She had to find a way to control her reactions to him or they would be her undoing. Halloth paused and glanced at her left hand. The finger was already healing, but she could even now feel his mouth, drawing upon it. This would not do.

“Cuguneth,” she called, “you’re the best at preparing vegetables. What should we do with these?” She had some of her own ideas, but she liked getting everyone in the kitchen in menu planning whenever possible, and she especially wanted to include Cuguneth. The dark-haired elleth was still very reserved around her, almost resentful. 

Cuguneth moved closer and eyed the leeks thoughtfully. “A soup would be good,” she suggested. “Flavour it with some of the salted pork.”

“I like that plan,” Halloth said. “Would you handle it?”

Cuguneth nodded. “Yes, of course.” She began to gather the leeks to wash while Halloth moved away. “Wait,” she said quietly, and Halloth stopped and looked at her in curiosity. Cuguneth blushed. “I want to apologize for my behaviour this last week. I thought Medwen liked being in charge, but she finally told me this morning that she’s glad not to be. She never said so before, so I thought. . .” She trailed off and looked down.

“No need for apologies,” Halloth replied, smiling slightly. “I understand.”

The other woman returned Halloth’s smile with one of her own. “Thank you.”

A flurry of motion at the door drew their attention toward it. Both women bowed as the princess rushed in, Arassel in tow. Mereniel nodded quickly to Halloth as she and the young one made her way toward the two cooks.

“May we have a word with you?” she asked Halloth.

“Of course.” She drew them off to the far side of the kitchen. “What can I do for you?”

At this, Mereniel gently nudged Arassel. “Go on, dear.”

There was a long silence and then, “ ‘Tis nearly my papa’s begetting day.” 

“Yes, I know,” Halloth replied. His six-hundred fortieth, according to what she had been told by Galion. Preparations for the feast were already underway. 

“Arassel has a favour to ask of you, haven’t you, little one?” Mereniel prodded the child.

The little girl tugged on the princess’ hand, looking up at her with wide eyes. “Can’t you ask her?”

“It’s all right,” Halloth murmured, kneeling so she was eye level with the child. “I’ll be happy to do what I can for you.”

Arassel glanced down, caught her skirt in a small hand and swept it absently back and forth as she studied the freshly-scrubbed floor. “Would you bake a cake for it?”

“Yes, I have several planned.”

Mereniel shook her head. “She means for him and her to share, just the two of them. She’s been planning a special party with Galion’s help.”

“Oh, I see,” Halloth said. “In that case, Arassel, would you like to help me bake one?”

The little girl’s eyes went wide. “Can I?”

“Of course. I started learning to cook when I was just your age, helping my own nana in the kitchen,” Halloth replied. “Now then, when is your party?”

“In two days.”

It was short notice but doable. “Very well,” Halloth agreed. “Come back tomorrow, after your studies, of course, and we shall get to work making your ada a very special cake.”

“Thank you, Lady Halloth,” Arassel chirped. “I will be here.”

“Please, call me Halloth, Arassel. I will look forward to our time together,” she answered, smiling.

“Run along now, Arassel, and I’ll be right outside,” Mereniel told the little girl. Arassel immediately turned and left and the princess nodded approvingly at Halloth as she rose to her full height again. “That was very kind of you.”

“It was nothing. She seems like a sweet child.”

“She misses her own mother very much. Well, Legolas does the best he can for her,” the princess said, glancing back to the door through which Arassel had disappeared.

“He seems to care for her a great deal, from what I have seen,” Halloth replied. “And she for him.”

“Oh, yes, there is no question of their love for each other, though it’s been rough going at times.” Mereniel’s expression cleared and she turned her attention back to Halloth. “Now then, how are you getting along?”

Halloth blinked at the change in topic though she was relieved to no longer be discussing Prince Legolas. “Oh, yes, everything is running smoothly here.”

“I meant you. Are you all settled in?”

“Oh. Yes, I am, thank you.”

“I’m glad to hear it. And now I’d better be off,” Mereniel replied. “Thank you for offering to help Arassel.”

Then she was off with a swirl of crimson skirts, leaving Halloth to wonder if the queen had been like her daughter. Likely so, she decided. The thought led her to recall the sadness in Legolas’ voice when he had spoken of his mother, and her heart caught slightly in her chest. Halloth shook her head and hurried back to her duties, determined to put the prince from her mind.

~~~~~

Orelon sighed and looked over at Legolas. The ride north had been tense, with no words exchanged between them. He regretted his words and his behaviour earlier. Goading Legolas was an old habit, one he still lapsed in to from time to time, but he should not have done so this morning, he realized. He had seen the way Legolas had regarded Halloth, the way they had been standing close, but maybe there was something he was missing. Had the new cook refused Legolas’ attentions? He supposed that was possible. But his older brother had never let that get to him before. Maybe there was something different about this one.

“I never thought to see the day you’d let a woman get to you.”

Legolas took the time to glare at him before turning his attention back to their surroundings. He wanted to hit Orelon again, he really did, but it would solve nothing. The problem did not lay with his younger brother at all, but with Halloth. 

“What’s holding you back from making her yours?” Orelon went on. “It’s obvious there’s something between you.” 

It was too bad Halloth herself did see that. They could be good together; he knew she felt something for him, even if it was only lust. Not that he minded that, of course. It was a start. At last Legolas spoke. “She needs time.”

“Time?” Orelon scoffed. “How long does it take for a woman and a man to decide they want each other?”

The space of a heartbeat. At least in his case. Aloud Legolas said, “There’s more to it than that.”

“Such as?”

“Such as minding your own damn business, brother, or you’ll go back strapped across the front of your horse instead of astride it.” 

“As if you could put me there,” Orelon retorted, grinning. “But you know where to find me if you need advice.”

~~~~~

 

“Now then, what must we do before we begin cooking?” Halloth asked Arassel.

It was early afternoon the next day and the two of them were alone in the kitchen. Halloth had instituted one change to the way things were run, that once the mealtime rushes were over, everyone who had nothing to do could take time off to spend with family or take care of needed chores at home.

Arassel looked up at her blankly, and then said, “We get the ingredients?”

Halloth smiled. “First we wash our hands. When they’re clean we gather the ingredients.”

“Oh.”

Hands washed, Halloth helped Arassel find the necessary items. “Flour, honey, salt--.”

“Salt?” Arassel made a face. “Won’t that ruin it?”

“No,” Halloth replied, laughing slightly. “When we mix it with the yeast it will help make the cake grow in the oven.”

“Like a baby?”

Halloth blinked at her. “What?”

“Ada says babies grow in their mothers’ tummies. He didn’t want to tell me, but Adarthêl made him.”

Halloth’s eyebrows rose but she said nothing. She tried to picture Legolas explaining where babies came from to his daughter, but that led her thoughts down other paths. More dangerous paths. Like the talk she had overheard the day before about what kind of lover Legolas was. It had made her blush then and it did so now the harder she tried not to think of it. She cleared her throat and focussed instead on how embarrassed he must have been to have such a talk with one so young, even if he did not go into detail. 

“He did, did he? Yes, I suppose you could say that. Now we have our ingredients we’d best get started making your ada’s cake.”

They quickly got to work mixing the batter, pouring it into a pan and set it in the oven to bake. Afterwards they sat together companionably drinking cider and munching on bread left over from luncheon. 

“Do you have any children?” Arassel asked after swallowing a bite.

Halloth glanced at her, wondering where this was leading. But perhaps it was merely a child’s curiosity. “No, I do not.”

“Don’t you want them?”

Halloth took a sip of her cider. Once she had wanted a child, but that was when she had thought she and Elhadron might have a future together. “I suppose. One day,” she answered at last.

“Ada needs a wife so I can have a brother. He told me so.”

“That would help, I’m sure,” Halloth murmured, rising suddenly as the thought of Legolas married to another caused her gut to clench and a hollow ache to rapidly follow it. Angrily, she pushed the feeling aside. He was the most infuriating, unsettling man she had ever met and she wanted nothing to do with him. Nothing at all. So why does the thought of him with another hurt? It doesn’t, she countered; it was just the thought of him that was annoying. She realized she was scowling when Arassel tilted her head and opened her mouth as if to ask another question. Halloth forced her features into a calm mask and smiled.

“I’d better go and check on the cake.”

 

Adarthêl—literally, father-sister, as there is no Sindarin word for aunt


	10. Chapter 10

Halloth had just unravelled her braids and was brushing out her hair when there was a knock upon her door. She moved to answer it, and was surprised to see Mereniel standing there with an impatient look upon her face.

“Your Highness,” she murmured, dipping into her customary curtsy.

Mereniel smiled faintly. “I know we’ve only met twice, but I’d hoped we could be friends, and I much prefer to be called by my name.”

“Oh. . . Mereniel. Would you like to come in?” 

The princess brightened, but shook her head. “Actually I’ve come to take you out. You’ve not been to the gatherings in the Great Hall since you arrived, and everyone I’ve asked says you retire to your rooms immediately after the kitchen is closed. And here you are. And here I am to drag you away for some fun and frivolity.”

“But I’m a cook.”

“What of it?” Mereniel scoffed. “My mother was a seamstress.”

“She was?”

“Yes, but that’s beside the point. Everyone is welcome to attend, and I want you to join me. You can just sit and listen to the singing if you like. But you can’t stay here alone every night moping about some fool who broke your heart, especially with so many eligible men in Mirkwood.”

“I’m not moping,” Halloth denied. It was true; she was hoping to avoid Legolas. And the last thing she wanted was to attract men. “I have nothing appropriate to wear.”

“Your gown is lovely,” Mereniel countered, looking over the deep blue dress Halloth wore. It was not the most fashionable, to be sure, but the vivid colour made her eyes look darker, while her golden hair shone against it. “Now will you come with me, or shall I make it a command?”

Halloth’s gaze darted to Mereniel’s face to see that she was only half teasing. “All right, I’ll come,” she relented, hoping that she would not regret it.

~~~~~

Legolas paused in the entrance to the Hall and surveyed the group of people. It was the usual crowd and he smiled at his friends who were gathered along one wall, but he made no move to join them. He had just seen Arassel to bed and was contemplating taking a walk in the cool night air rather than spend it here hoping Halloth would show up. She had not in the time she had been here, so he did not expect her now. And he berated himself again for letting her have time and not pressing his suit. He had never let a woman dictate the pace of things before, and doing so now made him feel off somehow. But she was worth it. 

He started to leave, but he felt a tug on his soul and he turned back to scan those gathered on the opposite side of the room. At first he did not see her, but then Galion moved away and Legolas saw her standing beside Mereniel. Halloth. His heart skipped several beats and he drew in a deep breath when she glanced his way and their eyes met. Too soon she looked away, but Legolas noticed her hair, falling in shimmering waves past her hips. If possible she looked even more beautiful.

“Wine, Your Highness?”

Galion’s voice drew his attention away from Halloth, and he accepted a goblet of the strong drink his father favoured, managing a quick “Thank you,” before the butler hurried away.

He took a sip of the Dorwinion, and returned to watching Halloth with his sister. It was good they seemed to be forming a friendship. He wanted his family to accept her, hoped they would come to love her too. Mereniel turned her head and waved slightly, a knowing smile on her face as she winked at him. She beckoned him over, and he nodded toward her as he began to make his way around the room.

From her place beside Mereniel, Halloth watched in dismay as Legolas drew close. She was not ready to see him, not prepared to deal with the feelings that always bombarded her, and she doubted she ever would be. Tonight he looked different, more regal than ever, though he still exuded his usual, potent sexuality. He wore no braids this evening so his hair hung loose against a black tunic. His lips curved into a smile and Halloth could do nothing but stare back as her mind shut down and her pulse raced in reaction. 

She tried to focus on the way he had appeared earlier when he had come to collect Arassel from the kitchen, but that was no help either, for seeing the two of them together had caused a dull little ache in her heart. He was so gentle with the child, and seemed so intent on being a good father to her, that Halloth could not help softening somewhat in how she thought of him. 

“Good evening.” He greeted them both but his eyes remained on Halloth.

“Halloth, you remember my brother, Legolas,” Mereniel said after quickly kissing his cheek. 

“Of course. Your Highness,” Halloth murmured, dipping into a curtsy.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Halloth,” Legolas replied. He let his gaze linger a bit longer on her hair. Was it as soft as it appeared? He clenched his free hand into a fist to keep from reaching out to see.

“How was your hunt?” Halloth asked politely, wondering why his face was bruised. An accident?

“It was quite successful,” Legolas answered, frowning slightly. It was the last thing he wanted to be talking about.

“Would you two excuse me?” Mereniel interrupted. “I’ve just spotted someone I need to speak with.” 

She hurried away before either of them could stop her. In spite of her initial worries that her brother would end up heartbroken, the last several days had shown he was hurting already. It was time to do something about it, because for once, Legolas seemed reluctant to pursue a lady he obviously found interesting. While, it was true the two of them barely knew each other, but judging by the way the air vibrated around them just now the length of their acquaintance mattered little. 

Halloth watched the princess leave and started to do the same, but Legolas stopped her. She turned to face him again reluctantly.

“How is your hand?” he asked gently.

“It’s better, thank you.” Halloth’s heart tripped when he caught her hand momentarily and examined it. She pulled it away and looked around for an avenue of escape, but she knew no one else there. “Where is Arassel?” she asked, when she could think of nothing else to say.

“She’s in bed, asleep by now, I’ll wager.” Legolas chuckled softly. “She insists she’s old enough to attend, but nearly always winds up yawning through her bath.”

“She’s a lovely child,” Halloth said, her gaze drifting back to him. His expression had softened when he spoke of his daughter, and Halloth felt a rush of warmth steal over her, not like the heat she always experienced, but just as frightening. 

“And you’re lovely with your hair down,” he said, his voice changing to more sensual tones as he spoke. “You should always wear it like that.”

Halloth ignored the flush of pleasure that stole over her at the compliment. “It’s not practical in the kitchen. I found that out the hard way when I began my apprenticeship.” 

“What happened?” he asked.

“It caught fire.”

Legolas frowned. “Then perhaps it is best to leave it up. It would be a shame to lose such beautiful--.”

“I really should go, Your Highness,” Halloth interrupted, not caring about etiquette or consequences. She just wanted to get away. “The next two days will be quite busy. Excuse me.”

~~~~~

She took refuge in the kitchen, where she set to work getting out ingredients to make different types of bread for the morning meal. But her movements were slow, her thoughts becoming more chaotic as she continued. Legolas was getting to her. Had been since she had first met him. 

It no longer surprised her to sense his presence when he entered the kitchen. She tried to pretend he was not there and continued working, but her hands began to shake and she gripped the tabletop to stop them.

“Halloth?” 

She said nothing, made no sign that she knew he was there, other than a slight hitch in her breathing. It was enough, and Legolas touched her arm.

“I’ve stayed away from you, tried to let you be, but I can’t--.”

“Try harder.” Halloth was not sure if she meant her words for Legolas or for herself. 

“You don’t want that,” he said, stepping closer, so close her warm, feminine scent overwhelmed his senses. “You want me as much as I want you.”

Halloth whirled around. “You conceited oaf! Find another to spend your lust on. I want nothing to do with you!”

“Liar,” he murmured, his gaze roaming her body. “That’s not what your eyes say. Or your nipples. And if I raised your skirts I wager I’d find your pussy already wet.”

She slapped him as hard as she could. It was true her traitorous body was begging for his touch, but she would not give in, even if she was weakening by the moment. She had to fight these feelings.

“I warned you,” he growled. 

He bent his head toward hers, knowing she would fight him, expecting it, but he could not deny himself any longer. She struggled as his lips covered hers, hard and punishing, twisting her head in an attempt to get away. Her hands pushed at him before pounding at his shoulders until he pulled her close to stop her useless efforts. 

Halloth moaned as one hand slipped to her back and he held her against his lithe, muscular body. Her breasts pressed against his firm archer’s chest, making her nipples peak even more. His other hand tangled in her hair, keeping her captive as rapacious lips devoured hers, demanding that she yield. With a whimper she gave up pretending she did not want him, gave up fighting, and began to kiss him back. 

Legolas plunged his tongue inside her mouth when she parted her lips and her own met it eagerly. Another bolt of lust shot through him as she wriggled to free her arms, her body moving tantalizingly against his. Yes, this, this was the real Halloth, the one who was fire and hunger, the one he ached for.

His hands slipped from her back to her ass and lifted her up against him. She pressed closer against his arousal, causing Legolas to swear softly against her mouth. His hands found the laces of her dress and untied them, while Halloth worked her hands between them to undo the clasps of his tunic. Legolas impatiently shrugged his shirt free and yanked the bodice of her dress down. He bent his head to draw one exposed dusky pink nipple into his mouth. He bit the hardened bud, suckled it, flicked his tongue rapidly over it. His free hand found the other and toyed with it. Her hands rose to tangle in his hair as a moan fell from her lips.

“I want you,” he murmured, moving back up to kiss her again. 

“Yes,” she panted. She could not deny him. Could not deny herself. 

He lifted her onto the table where the ingredients Halloth had been preparing lay forgotten. There was a thunk as one of dishes fell over and something sticky covered her hand. She did not care, for Legolas had raised her skirts over her hips and his fingers brushed teasingly over her damp folds. Halloth parted her thighs in invitation, wanting. 

Legolas jerked the ties of his leggings loose and tugged them over his rigid cock with a hiss. He positioned himself at her opening, his shaft throbbing eagerly to be inside her. She was so wet for him, her juices making the head of his shaft slip teasingly along her pussy. 

“Please,” she begged. 

Legolas shoved his prick into her and groaned her name. “Halloth.”

He drove into her hard and fast, control gone as easily as it had been the first time he had kissed her, only more so now with the slick heat of her tight around him, squeezing him. 

Halloth moaned as Legolas thrust into her again and again while at the same time expert fingers found her clit and stroked it. She moved her hands to grasp him deeper but he caught the one that was covered with honey and drew it to his lips. His eyes gleaming darkly, he licked the sticky substance from her fingers before releasing it. He paused only a heartbeat as he bent toward her, grabbed the bowl of honey and dribbled some onto her skin. She felt his tongue lap at a nipple and then close over it, drawing on it again and her pussy quaked in reaction. 

He gripped her hips firmly, lifting her ass off the table as he thrust into her again and again. Halloth cried out his name as wave after wave of ecstasy rolled over her, her body convulsing, her eyes closing as this new sensation rippled through her. She felt Legolas’ hands tighten even more and his already hard and rapid strokes increase in tempo. Hot seed spilled into her and she heard her own name whispered in a harsh, trembling voice as if from far away while the tremors running through her frame slowly abated. 

She opened her eyes to find his gaze on her, a mingled look of triumph and tenderness sparkling from his darkened eyes. Horrified and ashamed at giving in to him, Halloth focused on the former, and her blood cooled as rapidly as it had heated. “Release me.”

Legolas withdrew from her reluctantly. Halloth batted his hands away as he tried to help her from the table, and he stepped back, frowning as she tugged her dress back into place.

“Are you satisfied now?” she asked, her voice shaking. 

Legolas tucked himself back into his leggings and rapidly tied them. “Halloth--.”

She ran to the door and yanked it open, hurrying from the room without a backwards glance. The brief moment of pleasure turned to frustration and Legolas pounded a fist on the table, jarring it. An egg rolled off and hit the floor on the other side. Swearing, he retrieved his tunic and put it on before going in search of something to clean up the mess.


	11. Chapter 11

“Halloth, are you all right?”

Medwen moved close and touched her shoulder, drawing Halloth out of her stupor. “I’m fine,” she answered, trying her best not to think about what had happened last night. Not that she could readily forget. It had played over and over in her mind as she had fled to her room and for most of the night thereafter. Just as it was doing now. She felt flushed again all over just thinking of it. The feel of Legolas’ mouth on hers, hot and insistent, his hands on her body. . . 

“Yes, but don’t you think a bowl full of salt is a little much for a cake?”

“Oh, no!” Halloth glanced down to see the spice was overflowing the edge of the bowl she was using to measure and spilling onto the table. The table. Her mind flashed back to being spread out on it, Legolas above her, dribbling honey onto her chest. She closed her eyes and drew a deep breath, but it did not calm her. Again she had that sensation of being taken apart and rearranged, only now it was more intense than the last time.

She focussed on the table, her workspace. It had been spotless this morning when she had arrived and everything was neatly in place. Halloth wondered again who had cleaned it, and hoped to goodness it had been Legolas and not another servant. She thought she might die of mortification if anyone discovered what she and Legolas had done on its surface. “Have I ruined anything?” she asked.

“No, not so far. Are you sure you’re all right?” Medwen asked again. “Perhaps some fresh air will do you good.”

“There’s so much to do,” Halloth murmured.

“There is, but you hardly ever take time from the kitchen. Prince Legolas won’t raise a fuss if his cake is more salty than sweet, but I daresay the king might have something to say.”

Halloth shook her head and hoped the blush she felt rising would not show. She looked again at the table. “I suppose you’re right. I’ll go for a walk later on.” 

~~~~~

“Are you satisfied now?”

Legolas watched in dismay as his arrow flew to the right, missing the centre of the target.   
He drew another arrow from his quiver and nocked it, meaning to follow the shot with another, but he paused. Satisfied? Physically, yes, he had been. He could not forget the taste of Halloth, could not forget the feel of her walls clenching him, could not forget the sound of her passionate cries as she reached her peak. He had never known such bliss when coupling with another.

Until she had run off.

Why had she run away? He had not forced himself on her. The kiss, yes, but afterwards, she had been as eager for him as he had been for her. So what had happened to make her bolt like a frightened doe? 

Legolas pictured again the devastated look on her face, heard again the anguish in her voice as she had hurled the accusing question at him: “Are you satisfied now?” 

Legolas drew a deep breath, released it halfway and fired, but the memory of her haunted eyes would not leave him, and his hands shook just as he released the arrow. He watched it hit the target with a frown. The shot was as bad as all his others this morn. Perhaps it was time to call it a morning. Besides, he had promised a surprise for Arassel. He only hoped he would not fall out of the tree because he was so distracted.

And later he would find Halloth. He needed to know what was going on.

 

~~~~~

The outside air was colder than it had been when she first arrived in Mirkwood. Halloth was glad she had not found the time to return the cloak Legolas had sent, and she was glad she had gone to her room to retrieve it. The wool was light but warm against the biting wind. There was a subtle scent about it too, him, but not overpowering. As if he had held it often. For some reason she could not fathom, it made her want to snuggle into its folds. 

“Higher, Ada!” 

Halloth stopped in her tracks as Arassel’s voice came to her, followed by Legolas warning against his daughter’s wish. Halloth’s heart skipped a beat and began to hammer away against her ribcage. She should go inside now. She had been out here long enough but something drew her toward the sound of the little girl’s laugher, and the father’s deeper chuckle.

She moved past another tree and saw them. Arassel sat on a plank of wood that was hanging suspended from the branches of an oak. Legolas was behind, pushing her forward so that she sailed up into the air and then back again toward him. Halloth watched them for long minutes, forgetting her instinct to flee. They looked like they truly belonged together, as if he really was her father and Arassel his daughter. A lump formed in her throat at the familial picture, and it tugged suddenly at her being almost as much as the invisible string that seemed to pull her toward Legolas, bit by bit. 

She started to turn to leave but Arassel called out to her and she remained where she was. The child she could not deny, even if she was not ready to face Legolas so soon after last night. Heart now in her throat, she waited as they approached her. Halloth tried to focus on the child but her eyes kept straying to Legolas. She was surprised to see that he looked as if his own night had been as restless as hers. Even more unexpected was the stab of regret she felt for leaving him there, no doubt as confused as she was. 

“Hello, Halloth. Did you see me swing high?” Arassel asked.

“I did, yes,” Halloth replied, smiling at her. “That’s quite an interesting contraption you have there.”

“Ada just put it up for me.”

“Did he?” She glanced back up at Legolas, her smile faltering slightly as their eyes met. His were dark, not as dark as they had been last night, but filled all the same with powerful emotions that made her breath catch. She turned her attention to Arassel once again, to pretend she had not noticed. “It must be fun to use.” 

“Oh, it is. Would you like to try it?” Arassel offered eagerly.

Halloth shook her head slightly. “Thank you, but I’d better not today. I have to return to my duties soon.”

“Arassel, why don’t you go and practise swinging on your own for a while,” Legolas said. 

“Yes, Papa.”

Halloth watched as the little girl ran to the swing before hesitantly turning her attention back to the prince. “I really do need to get back,” she murmured. 

“You look beautiful,” he said, his gaze warm. “Mother’s cloak looks good on you.”

Halloth started. “Oh, then you really should not have sent it to me. I’m just a cook. This is too fine--.”

“You’re not ‘just’ anything, Halloth,” he replied. “It was mine to give, and I wanted you to have it. And Naneth would have wanted you to have it also. This was her second best, the one she wore for everyday, if that makes you feel less uncomfortable.”

It would be churlish of her to make a fuss over it and return it now, especially since it had belonged to his mother. If only she had found the time to do so sooner. No, she had had time; she had just been reluctant to see him again. “I do appreciate the loan of it. Thank you, Your Highness.”

“ ‘Twas not a loan, but a gift. And after last night, I think you’d better call me Legolas, don’t you?” His voice changed to the cooler, commanding tones he used with his troops, though he kept it low to avoid being overheard. “Speaking of which, I think I deserve an explanation. What happened? Why did you run away like that?” 

So there it was, the question she had dreaded. Halloth chewed on her bottom lip. He did deserve an explanation, but how could she even begin to answer? Especially when she was not ready? “I. . .Nothing. It was a mistake that shouldn’t have happened.”

“Is that how you treated all your other lovers? Are you that cold? If you didn’t want to fuck you could have said so beforehand.”

Halloth flinched as if she had been struck, and tears sprang to her eyes. Elhadron had accused her of being the same thing. Cold. . . Boring. . .A pathetic fuck. Was that what Legolas thought of her too? Halloth blinked the tears, and the memory, away. “I’d better get back. There’s much to do. Good day.”

“Halloth, wait.” He raked a hand through his hair, gritting his teeth in frustration as she turned away from him. He wished he could take the words back. They were unworthy of him, and so very wrong. She might want to keep everyone away with an icy demeanour, but she was not cold. Far from it. “Díheno nin. I didn’t mean that.”

She turned back to look at him. He had been so arrogant toward her, so sure of his own appeal, that an apology was the last thing she had expected now, but Legolas looked as though he had wounded himself almost as much as he had her. His expression was contrite, his eyes shadowed with pain. She found it was harder to be resentful toward him than it had been when her previous lover when he had hurled those words at her. And though Legolas had broken his promise not to touch her unless she asked him, he was not entirely to blame for last night either. No matter how upset she was that she had given in to him, he had not forced her, only the situation. She had wanted him as much as he had claimed to want her. But she was not ready to reveal her reasons for running away. She was not ready to give so much of herself again. “I’m sorry too,” she whispered. “I wish I could explain, but I can’t.”

“All right,” he said softly. “I’ll accept that answer. For now.”

Halloth’s eyes widened in surprise. She had expected him to push, to demand she give more of an explanation. She had not expected him to give up so easily. “Thank you.”

“But, Halloth, you’ll have to explain sooner or later,” he warned her. “There’s nowhere in this forest you can hide from me.”

With that he nodded curtly to her and strode away, leaving her standing there alone. 

Díheno nin—Forgive me


	12. Chapter 12

Legolas looked up, puzzled, as the knock sounded upon his door that night. Dinner was over and he was reading a story to Arassel, though she had been paying little attention. His daughter jumped from his lap and rushed to the door, bouncing eagerly on her toes as she waited for him to answer it. Who could she be expecting? Arching a brow at her, he quickly opened the door, only to breathe in deeply in an effort to appear unaffected by the presence of Halloth.

She held a covered dish before her, and she smiled hesitantly at him before turning her attention to Arassel. This time her smile was more open, and Legolas was torn between envy toward his daughter and relief that she and Halloth seemed to like one another. He settled on the latter, deciding it was a very good thing that they did.

“Good evening,” Halloth murmured, glancing back at him, only to find herself held captive by his appearance. With his hair down and his shirt half undone he looked positively. . . mouth-watering. She blushed, tearing her thoughts from that path and indicated the platter. “This is for you.”

“It’s a Begetting Day cake, Ada,” Arassel told him, before he could ask. “I baked it for you. Well, Halloth helped,” she amended quickly.

“Indeed.” He glanced from one to the other. “Please, come in, Halloth, and share it with us.”

“Oh, no, I couldn’t,” Halloth demurred. “This is supposed to be just for you and Arassel. She asked me to bring the cake, and I agreed, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“But you wouldn’t be. Would she, Ada?” 

“No, she wouldn’t. But perhaps Halloth has other plans.”

“You don’t, do you, Halloth?” Arassel moved closer and tugged at Halloth’s skirt. “Please stay.” 

Halloth wanted to say no, even if her own plans involved doing needlepoint in her room and then going to bed. But she could not deny the child. She liked her too much to disappoint her. “Very well. I’ll stay if you both want me.”

“You know I do,” Legolas replied.

Halloth’s stomach flipped over at the double-entendre and the memory of their coupling, which had not left her mind, played over again. She did not meet his gaze as she handed the cake to him to set down. Fire sizzled up her spine and travelled to every part of her body as their hands brushed together. She gasped at the sensation and glanced at him sharply, but he had turned and moved away, and she sucked in another breath to calm herself.

She followed him as across the large sitting room. Two doors were set in opposite walls. One was ajar and she caught a glimpse of a small bed topped by a pale yellow coverlet. It must be where Arassel slept, which meant the other room had to belong to Legolas. Halloth quashed her rebellious mind’s attempt to picture him lying upon it and focussed her attention on the chamber they were in instead. There was a fireplace against the far wall with a fire crackling merrily in its grate. Set before it was a large sofa covered in leather and a thickly padded chair. She could imagine Legolas sitting in it, his long legs stretched out toward the fire after a long day’s hunting. Perhaps he would be re-fletching his arrows. . .

“Sit here, Halloth,” Arassel called. She patted the chair next to hers.

Halloth blinked and looked toward the little girl. A table with four chairs stood to one side of the fireplace, next to a window. Legolas had set the cake down upon the flat surface of it and was next to his own chair. He was watching her expectantly and Halloth chewed on her bottom lip as she moved to the seat indicated, directly across from his, where she would have no choice but to look at him or be rude. Nervously, she sat down.

“I can cut the cake with my dagger,” he said, “but I have nothing to serve it on. If only I’d known. . .”

“Oh, I nearly forgot!” Arassel jumped up and ran into her room. When she returned she carried a set of small plates and forks. “Galion brought these,” she announced. “And here is your gift, Ada. I drew it myself.”

“I knew you two were up to something,” Legolas told her, admiring the childish drawing as if it were a masterpiece. Which to him it was. He ruffled her hair affectionately. “Well, let’s see if this cake is as good as it looks, shall we.”

When he had cut them all a piece he found a bottle of cider and three goblets from a sideboard set against the wall nearest him and poured some for them all. He nodded his thanks to Halloth when she passed them all around. She offered him another shy smile, and he stared, drinking in the sight of her lips curved softly upwards until she looked away. 

Even after she turned her attention to the cake, and to Arassel, who was chatting away about her new swing, he kept watching her. The way she held her fork, the way she delicately placed it in her mouth made him want to get up from the table and carry her into his bedchamber. Thank the Valar for his daughter being there to stop him. He was uncertain he could countenance Halloth running off again afterwards and the last thing he wanted was to cause a scene and embarrass her. But gods, how he wanted her!

Halloth glanced up at him again and their gazes fixed on one another. She swallowed hard at the barely-tempered lust in his eyes. No one had ever looked at her in such a manner before, not even Elhadron. Her lips parted and her tongue darted out to moisten them. Legolas’ gaze focussed on them and she felt it, as hot as any kiss. 

“What is Lothlorien like?” Arassel asked, unwittingly shattering the spell that had crept over the two adults.

“Oh, well, it’s very different from here,” Halloth murmured, her gaze and her fork sliding to the table. She rolled the instrument back on forth on the surface before answering.. “It’s warmer, less dangerous. You should see the mallorn trees in autumn. Their leaves turn golden. ‘Tis very beautiful.”

“Why did you come here, then? Don’t you miss it?”

“I miss my sister, but I wanted to come here and cook for your grandfather.”

“Yes, but why?”

“Eat your cake, Arassel,” Legolas put in gently. “It’s almost your bedtime.”

“But--.”

“No buts, young lady. Growing children need their rest.”

Halloth looked from the little girl’s petulant, though very sleepy, expression to the father trying to maintain a stern appearance. This time she was prepared for the tugging at her heart but it still managed to undo her. She lowered her gaze and thought of the final preparations for tomorrow’s feast. 

“Yes, Ada.”

“And I should be going anyway,” Halloth said quickly, rising. “There are some things I must see to. Tomorrow will be quite busy.”

Legolas was on his feet in an instant. “Wait, please. I’d like to talk to you.”

There was more command than request in his tone. Halloth nodded once, frowning to cover her sudden nervousness.

She waited in the sitting room while Legolas put Arassel to bed. It was a homey chamber, warm and inviting. She supposed Mereniel had seen to that. But it was very much a warrior’s room, as well as a prince’s, for his weapons lay atop a chest against the wall nearest his bedroom. Her gaze fell on the door and again an image of Legolas sprawled upon his bed filled her mind. It was harder to shrug it away this time, the looks he had given her only adding detail to the picture of a man urging his lover to join him. She closed her eyes against it, nearly leaping off the floor as a frisson of excitement followed by a light touch on her arm alerted her to Legolas’ presence. She turned slowly to face him.

“Arassel wants to say goodnight to you,” he explained.

Halloth followed him reluctantly into Arassel’s room. The little Elfling was nearly gone into sleep. She smiled at Halloth, who moved close. Impulsively she leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss to Arassel’s forehead. 

“Pleasant dreams, little one,” she whispered. She stepped back and glanced up at Legolas, then away again. Once more his gaze was intent, a mixture of heat and tenderness that somehow made her feel even more flushed than she already did.

With a nod of his head he indicated they should leave the room. He led the way into the sitting room and Halloth followed. She started to gather the dishes and stack them, but Legolas stopped her.

“Someone will clear them in the morning.” 

“All right, then. Good night.” She moved toward the door, intent on escape. Coming here tonight was as much of a mistake as last night had been. Perhaps even more so. But she had promised. 

Legolas walked forward, again halting her. She turned to face him and he frowned at the mutinous expression on her face. “Thank you for helping Arassel, in spite of how you feel about me.”

“It was my pleasure. She’s a delightful child.” She ignored the rest of his comment, mostly because she was not sure what to say to it. That, and she was no longer sure what she felt when it came to him.

“I wish I were a better father for her,” he said. He glanced toward the room they had just left. “It’s been so hard for her. Hard for us both. I lost my dearest friends, but she. . . I feared she would fade with Dagorion and Feriel gone. She slept in my room for months. I didn’t know what else to do. I still don’t half the time.” 

Halloth’s heart clenched painfully at his words and his vulnerable expression. She wanted suddenly to comfort him. “You’re doing a fine job with her. Anyone can see that.”

Legolas was surprised by her praise, and pleased. “Thank you.” 

They stood staring at each other, the fire crackling in the hearth the only sound. Halloth knew she should go, every alarm bell in her head told her so, but her feet refused to obey. He was so close, so tall and powerful, his energy radiating around her, enfolding her. She was trapped as surely as if he held her.

“I should--.”

His mouth was on hers before she could even think of resisting. The kiss was gentle, searching, unlike the heated ones he had pressed on her before, yet her bones seemed to melt all the more quickly because of it. Halloth moaned and her hands came up to rest on his shoulders to steady herself. 

The kiss ended almost as soon as it had begun, and she looked at him, dazed. Legolas only smiled and drew her the remainder of the way to the door. His gaze lingered on her face a moment and then he stepped aside so that she could leave. 

“Good night, Halloth,” he murmured.

She swept past him without a word and hurried out of his chambers and down the corridor. She did not look back, nor did he expect her to. 

Legolas watched until long after she had disappeared, fists clenched, every particle of his being yelling at him to go after her. He could have taken her into his room, made love to her, he had seen it in her eyes, but it was better this way. Every time he pushed her, every time she gave in against her will, she only worked harder to shove him aside and repair the wall she had built around herself. Next time would be on her terms. 

With an effort, he reined in his need and went to his own bed, hoping he was not making another miscalculation. 

Feriel---Daughter of Beech Tree, Arassel’s mother


	13. Chapter 13

Halloth disentangled her legs from her blankets and rose to ready herself for work. She had slept little anyway, so might as well get an early start. Thoughts of Legolas had plagued her most of the night and when she had at last fallen asleep she had dreamt of him.

She washed her face carefully and rubbed her teeth clean, pausing afterwards to stare in the mirror. What was she thinking, to be disappointed that Legolas had not tried to seduce her last night? For she was. Very disappointed. 

She had wanted Legolas, would not have denied him had he wanted to make love to her, but he had sent her away. Why? He had wanted her too; she could sense it. Was he playing some sort of game, she wondered. Or had he gotten what he wanted already and that was that? But then why had he kissed her, given her such heated looks?

Not for the first time in her life she wished she had more experience with men, or at least understood them a little better. But her formative years had been devoted to learning to cook, and soon after her majority she had gained a place in Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel’s household. There had been little time for flirtations with the opposite sex, and so she was inexperienced when she had met Elhadron. And to say that had turned out badly was an understatement. 

Now she found herself turned inside out by one who resembled him, in looks at least, though Legolas was by far the handsomer of the two. And he had been forthright enough to say what he wanted instead of plying her with pretty words of feigned devotion. After Elhadron’s repeated avowals of love all the while he was betraying her, she found Legolas’ honest admission of wanting her body a refreshing change. 

Halloth drew herself from her thoughts with a frown. There was work to be done, a feast to prepare. And there would be guests arriving today or tomorrow, Mereniel had not been sure. Quickly she finished her morning routine and made her way to the door. She opened it only to be stopped short by the very one she could not get out of her mind. He carried an armful of logs split into smaller pieces. She stared at him, wide-eyed. 

“Good morning. Galion mentioned you might need more firewood. I thought I’d save him the trouble.”

“Oh. Yes, thank you.” She watched, puzzled, as Legolas entered her room after she stepped aside for him. He set the wood down carefully and rose again before moving to stand close to her. The room seemed to shrink with his presence, or he seemed to fill it, she could not say which. It was not unpleasant though, by any means. 

“Are you well this morning?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Yes. And—and you?”

“I am.” His gaze moved over her face. “I won’t keep you. We both have our duties.”

“Yes, I’m. . .” Her voice trailed off. She felt foolish, tongue-tied. How young and unsophisticated he must find her compared to the women he was no doubt used to. The stab of pain the thought caused took her by surprise, but she shrugged it away. “Well, thank you for bringing the wood.”

She headed to the door but he stopped her. “I’ll walk with you.”

Halloth would have protested but by now she knew he would over-rule her anyway. He was a prince after all, and used to giving commands and having them obeyed. She nodded her assent and turned away again, not waiting for him. They walked in silence to the kitchen, and he made no move to touch her. She hid her disappointment and her confusion (She hoped!) when they halted at the door and she looked up at him. 

He smiled. “Good day, Halloth.”

Then he was gone, leaving her bereft of his exciting, yet warming aura, and Halloth had no choice but to get to work.

~~~~~

Breakfast in Thranduil’s household was a private affair. It was something the late queen, Gelnith, had insisted upon when Legolas had been born, and a tradition they carried on in her honour, when they could. But since the queen’s demise at the hands of Orcs, the king ate quickly before heading to his study, leaving the three siblings behind to finish. This morning was no exception. 

“You look better this morning than you did yesterday, brother,” Mereniel remarked to Legolas. 

Legolas eyed her over his mug of tea. “What do you mean?”

“You were a bear over breakfast and hardly touched your food,” Mereniel told him wryly. “Today you look positively. . .”

“Like someone who got into the honey.” Orelon finished for her. 

At this Legolas frowned and glanced toward Arassel. She was busily spooning porridge into her mouth and paying no attention to the grown-ups’ talk. “Is everything ready for the Brethren’s arrival?” he asked his sister, diverting the topic from himself. At least he hoped so.

Mereniel’s blush reached her hairline and she fiddled with her napkin. “Yes, I daresay.” She rose abruptly. “I’d better see that their rooms are ready, just in case they arrive today instead of on the morrow.”

“Can I come with you?” Arassel piped up.

“ ‘May I,’” Mereniel gently corrected. She smiled fondly at the child. “And yes, you may.”

“That’s what I said.”

Legolas stood as well and pressed a kiss to the top of his daughter’s head. “Be good, sweetling, and I’ll come get you for your lessons later.”

“Yes, Ada.” She moved next to Mereniel, who took her hand. “Can we go by the kitchen?”

“Yes, we’ll certainly need to visit the kitchen too.”

When the two females had left the breakfast room Orelon turned back to Legolas. “Seems our sister still has a bit of a crush.”

Legolas had been thinking of visiting the kitchen himself, but decided quickly against it. Halloth would not welcome him there, especially with so much work to be done. Especially after what had happened there last time they had been together in it. He tore his thoughts away from her and glanced at Orelon. What had he said? Something about Mereniel having a crush? “Seems so,” he replied.

“What should we do about it? Besides tease her of course.”

“Nothing,” Legolas replied. “I’d prefer not to have blackened teeth again. And if it turns serious, ‘tis Ada’s concern, not ours.”

“I suppose so,” Orelon agreed. “Well then, I’m off to the archery range. You?”

“Of course. Let me get my bow and quiver and I’ll meet you there.”

~~~~~

Halloth glanced around the crowded Hall that night as she listened to the Thranduil’s minstrels. She had almost declined Mereniel’s invitation to join her, especially considering what had happened last time. But the princess had promised not to leave her alone with either of her brothers, and so Halloth had agreed to come.

There was no sign of Legolas, and Halloth felt another wave of disappointment wash over her. She had hoped to catch a glimpse of him. And then she frowned. She did not want to see him. 

Liar.

“You should dance, Halloth. Come, let us join the group yonder,” Mereniel urged her.

Glad of the distraction, Halloth looked doubtfully over at the ellith rhythmically moving about on the floor as the minstrels played a lively tune. “It’s been a long day.”

“I suppose you’re right.” Mereniel straightened, her gaze fixed upon the entryway across the room. “Ah, I see my brothers have arrived, along with the Twins. Are they not magnificent?”

Halloth smiled at the obvious note of longing in Mereniel’s voice. She glanced at the famed Sons of Elrond, Elladan and Elrohir. Of course she had seen them every now and then, from afar, when they visited their grandparents in Lothlorien, and now she found herself nodding in agreement. Tall and dark, broad-shouldered, with long dark hair, they were indeed a strikingly handsome duo. Though not so comely as the eldest prince of Mirkwood, she mused, looking at Legolas. Even compared to the Peredhil Twins, he stood out, at least in her view. Tonight he wore a red tunic, a dark contrast to his silver-gold hair and light blue eyes. It made him look even more gorgeous, if such a thing were possible. She was still gazing at him when his eyes found her. He smiled, inclining his head slightly in her direction, and Halloth blushed 

“And which one is it you like the most?” she asked, tearing her attention from him with an effort.

Mereniel shrugged. “They’re the comeliest ellyn I’ve ever seen. I’ve never quite been able to choose between them.”

Halloth laughed with her. “But I think you have now, have you not?” she asked, her grey eyes twinkling with mirth. 

“Perhaps. Dance with the other women and me and I’ll tell you,” Mereniel promised.

Halloth was not a good dancer, but she decided for once not to worry about it and just have fun. “All right,” she agreed. “Just the one.”

~~~~~

Legolas watched her move into the throng of dancers, his eyebrows raised in surprise. He had not expected her to join them. Then again, he had not expected to see her laughing with his sister in such a light hearted manner. Of course he had known there was more to her than the aloof exterior she wore, but it was a pleasant surprise to see her behaving thus.

He stared as she began to move in time to the music. Her body swayed in time with the lyres and flutes, and his hand tightened on the goblet of wine he held. It was an innocent dance, but it stirred his blood, sending it rushing to his groin. He wanted to join her, pull her close and feel her body against his. Instead he pretended interest in the conversation he was supposed to be taking part in.

But he ached to join with Halloth again, to strip her bare and caress her skin, to feel her pulsing around him. He tore his gaze from her and swallowed back his desire with an effort when Elladan asked him a question, hoping his reply was at least coherent. 

Valar, it was going to be a long night.

~~~~~

It was still early when Halloth left the Great Hall. Legolas had gone too, so she felt safe that he would not follow her. And no small amount of disappointment that he would not. But he had guests, and his daughter to see to, and he was doubtless in his rooms now. 

She shook her head, torn between laughter and dismay at her conflicting emotions where he was concerned. Her head warned her to keep him at bay, but her body ached for him, wanted him close. As for her heart and her soul, they were begging to have their say too, but she refused to acknowledge them. She would not let them speak. Could not let them speak. There lay uncertainty. Danger.

“Hello.”

Halloth turned toward the sound of his voice. She was not surprised to see Legolas and wondered if he had not lain in wait for her. If he had followed, surely she would have noticed. But he seemed to have just arrived where she had, at her room. Either way, it Mattered not. He was here, and her senses clamoured in reaction as they had when he had appeared in the Hall.

“Hello,” she whispered. At least it sounded like a whisper to her ears; her heart was pounding so loudly she could not tell.

He stepped forward from the shadows. “I thought to turn in early but now I feel the need for a stroll. Would you like to join me?” 

She should have said no. It was the wise thing to do. The word was there in her brain, and she opened her lips to utter it, but before she could do so, she was nodding her head. 

His eyes gleamed in the semi-lightness of the corridor. “You should get your cloak. The wind blows from the north now, and the air smelled of snow this afternoon.” 

 

Gelnith—Joy Sister, Legolas’ mother


	14. Chapter 14

Cold air hit them as soon as they left the caverns by way of the side tunnel near the stables. Halloth drew her cloak closer and looked about. The snow had stopped falling already and the moon cast long shadows upon it where it filtered through the bare trees.

He motioned her towards the left and she followed, keeping step with him as he walked slowly across the fresh powder. Ahead of them a rabbit darted from one bush to another and above an owl called out, but otherwise all was quiet and still, except for the two of them. Halloth said nothing and neither did Legolas as they strolled side by side, arms, and sometimes hands, occasionally brushing. 

“I thought you’d spend time with your friends tonight,” she remarked after a while. “Mereniel said you’ve not seen them for many years.”

“They’ve journeyed far, and have turned in already, I expect. At least that’s the excuse they gave me. Besides, they’ll be here for the season. Plenty of time to visit before they return to their errantry.”

Halloth looked up at him after a moment. She did not know him well, but there was a note of quiet longing in his voice that was hard to miss. “You would like to travel and see more of this world.”

“Yes,” Legolas answered softly. “But my place is in Mirkwood, serving my king and my people. And there are compensations to be found here, especially now.”

They had reached the crest of a hill, and she moved a little away from him to stare over the landscape and collect her thoughts, for his words both thrilled and frightened her. Heart fluttering, she desperately searched for a new topic. She could think of nothing. 

“Let me know if you get too cold,” Legolas said. He would have held her hand, offered his arm and drawn her close to his side, but he thought that might be asking too much. She had agreed to come for a walk with him. That was enough. “I should have thought to send you gloves as well as a cloak. But it didn’t occur to me then, and I didn’t think of it tonight. I only wanted to share this with you.” 

“I’ll be fine,” she answered, smiling a little as she glanced up at him. “I’m glad you invited me. It’s beautiful,” Halloth added.

Beside her Legolas nodded. “It’s always thus after the first snow, when the air is fresh and clean. My mother said it was as if the past year was being washed away and readied for the spring. It’s hopeful, I think. Everything changes, yet some things remain constant.”

For several moments Halloth was silent. The past year washed away. . . Hearts and pride, damaged, could be cleansed, healed perhaps. People loved and were hurt; it was the way of things. But not always. Sometimes things changed. People changed. Feelings. . . Halloth shivered, and blinked back the tears that had formed. 

“Like a new beginning,” she whispered. “I like that.” 

“Yes,” Legolas agreed. “Are you sure you aren’t cold?” 

Halloth shook her head, smiling at the concern in his voice. “Your mother sounds very wise. What was she like?”

Legolas frowned for a moment, but then he smiled, just a little. “Her name was Gelnith and as joyous as her name implies, but you’re right, she was also wise. She kept my father from being too stern, kept us children from being too rambunctious. Things are not the same since her passing.”

His voice trailed off so that the last word was no more than a whisper, and Halloth stepped close. Without thinking, she reached for his hands and held them. They were callused, warm, though he wore no gloves either. “You all must miss her a great deal. Forgive me, I did not mean to sadden you. I only wanted to know of her.”

“One day I will tell you more,” he promised, gently squeezing her hands. 

The pressure of them seemed to squeeze her heart too, and Halloth drew her hands away and turned back toward the keep. She immediately missed the heat of his touch. “It will be a long day tomorrow,” she said, but her resolve was weak, and her words were soft. “There’s your Begetting Day feast to complete, you know.” 

“And what of tonight?” he said. He moved to stand close behind her. “Will it be as long and lonely for you as it will for me?”

She tensed and swallowed, closing her eyes. There was longing there too, in that question, only it was deeper than it had been when he had mentioned travelling. Another thrill ran through her, but before she could form a reply he had stepped away again.

Legolas cursed himself mentally. Why had he gone and ruined the mood? The last thing he wanted was to frighten her again, push her away, but his good judgement had fled. “Forgive me. I swore I would not press you as I did in the kitchen. Come, I’ll see you back.” 

Halloth closed her eyes, a sharp pang of regret stabbing her. His voice had given nothing away, yet she knew he was hurt by her seeming rejection. Her mind fled back to Galadriel’s warning: “You would then deny one who would give, without restraint, both his heart and his soul into your keeping. In your zeal to guard your heart you will cause further pain, to yourself, and to one who is truly worthy of you.”

At the time she had had no intention of heeding that advice. How could she even have thought of letting herself get close to someone again? Now, her thoughts and feelings were so jumbled she hardly knew what she wanted. Except. . . She could not let things end this way tonight, with him thinking she was refusing him. Not when she wanted to say yes, she would be lonely—without him. 

“Legolas, wait.” 

She hurried to halt his progress back toward the caverns, though he had only taken a few steps. He paused, every line in his body radiating tension, but his eyes glittered with need, reflecting her own sudden yearning. No, she corrected. This was a yearning that had been building all those days on the trail in spite of her attempts to fight it. A yearning that their encounter in the kitchen had only intensified. Her head again urged caution, but she ignored it. 

“You did not press me. I wanted you, too.” 

“And tonight?”

“Tonight, I want. . .” 

She could not form the words. Instead she tilted her head upwards in invitation and waited expectantly for him to kiss her. Legolas made no such move, and after searching his face in confusion, Halloth realised he was waiting for her. Daring her. Her tongue darted out to moisten her lips and before she could stop herself, she brushed them against his.

Halloth sighed with pleasure. His kisses had left her unable to note the texture of his lips, but she did now; they were firm, yet soft. Warm. She swept her lips over them again. Legolas held himself very still, hands at his sides, and at first she thought she was disappointing him. Halloth drew back, gazed up at him, but his expression gave nothing away. She wound her arms around his neck and tried again, moving to press herself against him as she poured all her longing into her kiss. A shudder ran through him and a soft groan reached her ears, and she realised then that he must be holding himself in check, letting her control things.

It was something else new and unexpected. Elhadron had never given her the lead, not even once. Halloth pressed her lips more ardently against Legolas’ and shoved her former lover from her mind. There was no place for him here, even in her thoughts. Especially in her thoughts. There was only Legolas, and being with him felt more right than anything ever had. 

Halloth stroked her tongue shyly against his lips and he parted his, letting her in. She explored his mouth, delicately brushed his tongue with hers. Halloth felt his body tremble, and then Legolas took over, his lips seducing, knowing, tender, as they moved over hers. Slow. She moaned into the kiss, wanting more, but Legolas kept the pace unhurried. 

He drew back a little to give them both a chance to breathe. “I’ve rushed you too much already,” he murmured. “For now I just want to kiss you. Hold you.”

Halloth smiled softly, another feeling of rightness stealing over her. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Legolas bent his head to claim her lips again, drawing her even more tightly against him. He shuddered again, felt the answering tremors and the soft sigh of contentment as she kissed him back. Gods, it felt good to hold her like this, to know that she wanted him too.

“Legolas, there you are! Oh, I’m sorry. . .”

Legolas and Halloth broke apart and whipped their heads in the direction of Mereniel’s voice. She came running toward them, her long hair flying behind her.

“It’s Arassel,” she panted. “She’s had a nightmare. Orelon is with her but she won’t calm down. She wants you.”

Legolas released a ragged breath and glanced back at Halloth. “I’m sorry. I have to go.”

“I understand,” Halloth said, shaking her head. “Your daughter needs you.”

He caught one of her hands and drew it to his lips, planting a soft kiss on the palm. “Good night.”

Halloth swallowed and nodded, keenly aware that Mereniel stood nearby, as she returned his soft parting words. She watched him hurry away with a heavy heart. 

“Ahem. . . so. . .” Mereniel touched her arm, drawing Halloth’s attention toward her. 

“We were just. . . taking a walk,” Halloth answered, blushing.

“So I saw.” The princess began heading toward the caverns, drawing Halloth with her. “And? Does this mean you’re over what’s his name? You’re going to give Legolas a chance?”

“Yes, I’m over him,” Halloth replied. “As for your brother, I. . .” She paused. There was so much she was not sure of. But perhaps there were no certainties in life. Perhaps it was all about taking chances. Or giving them. Halloth smiled again, feeling free in a way she had not for some time, perhaps never. “Well, let’s just say, he’s very hard to resist.”

Beside her Mereniel smiled to herself. Perhaps things would work out after all.


	15. Chapter 15

Legolas drew the blankets back up over Arassel and kissed the top of her head. She was calm at last, sleeping again. He settled back against the head of the bed and crossed his legs. This was not the first time his daughter had had fitful nights, and he knew they might repeat, so he stayed where he was, just in case--as he had in the days and weeks after Dagorion and Feriel had been killed in route to visit the lady’s grandparents. He had been helpless, lost in grief himself, but Arassel had cried herself to sleep so often he had set up a cot for her in his own bedchamber. And then the dreams had come, dark dreams filled with Orcs and death. Dreams one so young and innocent should not have. 

He looked down at the little hand clutched tightly around his as far as it could reach and his heart caught, as it always did. She looked so like her mother. And her father too, there in the set of her mouth, but she was Feriel’s daughter. He had been smitten with the elleth from Lothlorien as soon as she had arrived in the forest with her parents some fifty years before, but she had quickly made plain her preference for Dagorion, and Legolas had stepped aside out of love for his friend. And he was glad he had, in more ways than one, especially now. What he had felt for Feriel had been infatuation and lust. What he felt for Halloth was so much more. 

He wondered what she was doing now. Surely she was back in her room, or with Mereniel. He was certain they were both safe, for he had passed Elrohir, who was waiting a discrete distance away from the three of them, and there were guards out besides, in the treetops. But he felt badly about leaving her to check on his daughter, and guilty that he had left Arassel alone to go courting. How did one deal with such a situation? He could not give up Arassel, and he could not picture a future without Halloth being part of it. Part of both their lives. No, he could not give up one for the other; he loved them both too much for that. 

“How is she?”

He looked up as the sound of Thranduil’s voice wrenched him from his thoughts. His father had been with her when Legolas had arrived. “Better. I think she’ll sleep for a while now.”

Thranduil sat down on the foot of the bed. “You seem troubled.”

“Yes and no,” Legolas answered. He paused, searching for the words. “Am I doing the right thing?”

“For Arassel?” Thranduil asked. “You’ve given her a home, a family to love her, security. Yes, she misses her parents, but children are resilient. She’s already come far.”

Legolas nodded thoughtfully. It was true the nightmares came less and less often. Perhaps in time they would cease altogether. “I suppose. I feel like I don’t know what to do most days.”

Thranduil smiled crookedly at his eldest. “Isn’t that the way all parents feel?”

“Is it? Do you doubt yourself?”

“When have I not?” Thranduil asked, rising. “Only a fool thinks he has all the answers.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Legolas replied, smiling back.

His father stopped by the door and turned back, a more sober expression on his face. “By the way, I have a letter from Elrond. I’ll need to see you tomorrow, I’m afraid.”

He was gone before Legolas could ask what it was about.

~~~~~

He had just settled back again after his father left when the knock sounded upon his door. Carefully he extricated himself from his sleeping child’s tender grasp and went to answer it. He was surprised and pleased to find Halloth on the other side of it even though his senses had told him it was her. She smiled tentatively as he took her hand and drew her inside. 

“I didn’t want to disturb you but I couldn’t sleep without knowing Arassel was all right.”

“She’s better, sleeping now,” he answered. “I’m glad you came. I wanted to apologise for leaving like I did. Would you like anything? Wine?” 

“Thank you, no. I just wanted to check on her. And I already said I understood.”

“So you did.” He smiled and brushed his thumb over the back of her hand. Her scent enveloped him, called to him. His gaze moved hungrily over her, and he wished they could continue what they had begun, but it would have to wait. “I’d see you back to your chamber but. . .”

“It’s all right. I know the way.”

She made no move to leave, but instead stepped closer. Legolas bent his head, his mouth seeking hers as his hands lifted to cradle her face. What started out as innocent, gentle, quickly became rough and demanding and desperate as he poured all his love and lust, his hopes and fears, into it. Halloth moaned, shivered, as his lips left hers to lick over her chin, beneath it. She offered her throat in surrender and he took it, kissing his way to the base of it before sliding his mouth to the juncture of her shoulder. He eased her dress aside as far as it would go and suckled the skin, marking her. She gasped and rose on her toes, holding his head there. With an effort he drew back, released her from his hungry grasp only to pull her close and hold her. He felt her heart pounding against his chest, felt his own answering it. 

His voice was a soft rasp in the quiet room. “Do you have any idea how much I want you?” 

“I know,” she whispered, snuggling close, pressing against his arousal. “And so do I want you, Legolas. But there will be other nights.”

He smiled as she hesitated oh so briefly over his name. She would get used to calling him that, though he would never tire of hearing it. “I’ll hold you to that.”

~~~~~

“He can’t be serious.”

Legolas tore his gaze from the letter, some months old, worn, a drop of Orc blood spattered on one corner of it. It was clear that the Twins had taken a detour on the way to delivering it. He frowned and scanned over the contents of it again. Your promise. . . Discouraged my young ward, but for how long? . . . Fear for Arwen’s fate. . . They must not meet again. . . She will be an asset to your kingdom. . .

“I’m afraid he is. Or seems so,” Thranduil replied.

He leaned over Thranduil’s desk, not caring that he was addressing his king as well as his father. He was not going to fulfil some long ago bargain. “There was no binding agreement. You said it yourself.”

“Yes, yes, I was drunk. And so was he. We were celebrating. But we wrote it down and signed it, and now he expects you to marry his daughter quickly.”

“I won’t do it!”

“You will if I order it!” Thranduil rose, smacking a hand onto the solid oak to emphasise it. To his credit Legolas did not flinch or back down. Aye, he had raised strong sons, brave sons, but would they be enough in the coming years? He raked a hand through his hair. “We can use an even stronger alliance with Imladris than one of friendship. You know as well as I do that the Enemy grows bolder every day. Darkness is coming, darkness that threatens us all. Don’t be a child.”

“I’m not being a child,” Legolas retorted, nostrils flaring at the insult. “I know. . . Valar help me, I know how the Shadow lengthens in our forest. But my marrying Arwen isn’t going to change that.”

“But it will provide Elrond incentive to come to our aid.” Thranduil sat down again. “I thought you liked Arwen. She is comely, you said so, and wise.”

Legolas turned his head to stare out the window. It was true, he had said so, and he was fond of Elladan and Elrohir’s younger sister. A year ago he might have agreed to do as Lord Elrond asked. But not now. He looked back at his father. “Then you marry her. Or let Orelon fulfil the pledge.”

Thranduil snorted. “I’m still bound to your mother though she resides in the Blessed Realm. And Orelon is even more hot-headed than you.”

“Then find some other way to gain the alliance you seek.”

And with that, Legolas stormed from the room giving Thranduil no chance to respond. Seething, he returned to his rooms to gather his weapons before heading to the barracks to find someone with which to spar.


	16. Chapter 16

Halloth looked up when Linnien burst into the kitchen. The young maiden’s cheeks were flushed with excitement and her eyes sparkled. Halloth smiled. To be forty-five again and eager. Innocent. 

“May I watch the sparring?” she asked.

“No, daughter,” Medwen answered for Halloth. “We have much to do what with Prince Legolas’ feast to prepare.”

“But it’s the prince himself sparring. Five at once!”

Halloth’s hands stilled and her heart went thud against her ribs before leaping into her throat. “Where?” she squeaked.

“At the training grounds.”

“Show me,” Halloth ordered. She was only dimly aware that Medwen and Cuguneth were gaping at her, but for once she did not care.

Linnien nodded and ran out, and Halloth followed, her skirts gathered in one hand. Valar, what is he doing? Why was he sparring at all today, let alone five at one time? Five! Was he insane? 

The clang of metal against metal reached Halloth’s ears, followed by shouts and murmurs. What was wrong with these people, she wondered as she arrived on the outer fringe of a ring of onlookers. She pushed her way to the front and found herself standing next to Mereniel but her gaze was caught by the scene before her.

Legolas was in the centre of five of his men. In a frightening dance, they were circling around him, attacking at intervals. The prince parried Selcheneb’s charge of blades by sweeping his own outward. Halloth swallowed a gasp of relief.

“What’s he doing?” she asked her friend.

“Working off some anger over whatever Father said to him, I’m thinking,” the princess replied. 

She sounded unconcerned, but a quick glance showed her lips were pressed together and she was gripping Elrohir’s hand hard. Halloth turned her attention back to Legolas in time to see him duck and whirl, countering behind and in front of him. Her own hands curled into fists.

“Merciful Eru,” she murmured.

Just then a blade swiped close to Legolas’ chest, so close it sliced through the cloth of his tunic. Halloth gasped aloud this time and started to take a step forward, but a strong hand grabbed her forearm.

“Don’t. You’ll distract him,” a familiar voice warned. 

“Can’t you stop him?” she asked Orelon, her eyes wide and watching. She tore herself free from his grasp and put her hands to her mouth to stop herself from crying out as one warrior tried to kick Legolas’ feet from beneath him. Was that not unfair? 

“No. Not when he’s like this,” Orelon answered. “He won’t get hurt as long as he’s focussed.”

“I can’t watch anymore,” she breathed. But she remained where she was, unable to take her eyes off Legolas. He was skilled yet daring. Graceful and athletic. He was pure warrior. All male. But it was more than admiration that held her there, unable to breathe. He was outnumbered by men just as swift and deadly as he. He could get hurt. Halloth had to know he would be all right because. . . Because she had fallen in love with him.

The words were thunder in her head, drowning out the cheering crowd. She shook her head slightly, not wanting to listen, not wanting to acknowledge, but they were loud and insistent. It was too late. Shutting them out did not matter. It would change nothing. Her hands trembled even more than they had been, and sweat broke out on her skin. The walls she had tried to build were not as strong as she had thought. They had crumbled like sand before a tide. He had found the soft and vulnerable places beneath her fragile armour and had ripped it away. 

He had found her heart and made it his. 

“Halloth are you all right?”

Mereniel’s question tore through her dazed state. The spectators had begun to disperse, only a few lingered. “I—I don’t know,” she said. The sparring had ended, it seemed. Then she looked back at Legolas. He had been the victor, in spite of the odds, and was congratulating his fellow combatants. Then he turned toward her. She felt his bright spirit reaching out towards her, felt her own trying to answer. 

She turned and hurried away, back toward the keep. 

Legolas watched Halloth leave with a frown. He sheathed his knives and quickly began to follow. Mereniel blocked his way with a hand on his chest and a stern expression on her face.

“Step aside, Mereniel,” he muttered. “I’m going after her.” 

“No, Legolas, wait,” she said. “I know you probably want to find out why she ran away just now, but it might be better to ask what was she doing out here, watching you, in the first place. Don’t you think?”

Legolas hesitated. Mereniel had a point. What had Halloth been doing out here? She had never come to watch the sparring before, never seemed to have any interest in his activities. But then she had come, only to run away again. Why? Could it be what he hoped? Was it possible? 

Mereniel patted his arm as an inkling of comprehension flitted across his features, followed by an uncertain, questioning look. “Yes, I think she does care, Legolas, more than she wants to. She just needs time.”

Time. It was the one thing he no longer had. But he nodded slowly as he watched Halloth disappear out of sight. 

~~~~~

Halloth went through the next few days in a fugue. She chopped, stirred, sieved, did everything she normally did in the kitchen, but she could not recall doing it. Her mind was in its own space, trying to ignore the words her heart kept repeating. She wished it would stop. Wished she did not know, wished she had not seen him fight. 

Strange how feelings could change so quickly, she mused as she stirred the cup of tea she had just poured. When she had first met Legolas she had wanted nothing to do with him. The feelings he stirred in her had frightened her, and her instinct had been to protect herself. But he had earned her grudging respect in the way he cared for his daughter and his family, in the way he sought to protect his people and their lands. She had grown to like him. And Elbereth knew she desired him. Who, besides a lack wit, would not? 

But loving him? He could crush her heart into so many pieces she might never put it back together again. The pain she had felt at Elhadron’s betrayal would be nothing compared to what Legolas could do to her. 

Halloth sighed and stared at the cup of dark brew. She had already decided to give him a chance. Could she change her mind, hide from him because she was afraid again? 

She wanted to. Ai, she was terrified. But loving him would be risky anyway, even if he did return her feelings, for he was warrior as much as prince. Fear was no excuse. She had been played false, but she was only defeated, not dead. If she kept from him because she was afraid, she did not deserve this new love. Or him. 

What was it Lady Galadriel had said to her before she had departed? “Remember this, Halloth: Only the brave yield in matters of the heart.” 

It was time to be brave.

Halloth drew a deep breath and slipped her shoes back on. She headed determinedly for the door. Her legs trembled and her heart pounded, but she would go to him. And if he asked if she needed anything, she would say, “Yes, you.” 

He was on the other side of the door when she opened it, preparing to knock. Halloth’s heart skipped a beat. Smiling shyly, she paused in her tracks, thinking how handsome he looked tonight in his royal finery. But then he always looked comely to her. The silver tunic made his eyes seem even more blue and his hair darker. He looked tense, but he slowly smiled back.

“Hello,” he said at last. 

“Hello,” she answered. She drew a deep breath, let it out. “Come in.”

His eyes met hers, pinning them. “If I do I won’t want to leave until morning.”

Halloth’s heart leapt again and began to race. She stepped aside, making room for him to pass, a tacit acceptance of his terms. His gaze roamed her face a moment before he walked past and into her chamber. She shut the door behind him and then bolted it. Slowly she turned to face him. 

“Would you care for some tea?” she asked. Stupid question. You don’t want to serve him tea anyway.

He shook his head and moved to stand before her. “No,” he said unnecessarily as his hands lifted to cup her face. His thumbs brushed her cheekbones, and her eyelids fluttered closed just before he claimed her mouth. 

Halloth opened readily for his kiss. It was slow at first, a hot touch of lips that moved over hers, moulding them to his. His tongue found hers, stroking it sensuously, the pull of it making her breasts peak to attention and her limbs melt. Halloth moaned. She should be used to his kisses, should be prepared, but no, she was still carried away by his skill, and now by her feelings. Her hands drifted up to caress his neck, kneading the corded muscles with her fingertips. They moved into his hair, sifting through the long locks as far as she could before tangling in them, holding on lest her suddenly weak knees let her fall. 

His lips left hers, but he made no further move, to kiss her again or not. Halloth opened her eyes to gaze into his. They were dark, intent, the colour of the sky before a storm. Before, that look would have made her run away but not tonight. Tonight she wanted all that he promised with that hungry regard, and more. She wanted all of him. Wanted to give all of herself to him. 

“Don’t stop. I don’t want you to stop.” She moved a hand to trace his brow, his lips. “Have me, Legolas.”

“Tonight we’ll have each other,” he promised, eyes blazing, and Halloth could only nod.

His hands slid to her waist and he pulled her closer, kissing her again. She settled herself against him with a throaty moan that came out like a purr as she felt his cock between them, hard beneath his leggings. In response a rush of heat filled her, spreading through her body to pool between her thighs, making her pussy quiver and moisten in anticipation. And when his hands cupped her ass and raised her mound against his erection she whimpered like a wanton harlot. She cared not. 

They drew apart for air and began to undress each other. Slowly Legolas loosened the ties of her dress and her chemise and slid them off her shoulders and arms, placing soft kisses on each bit of skin he exposed as both garments fell in a thick puddle around her feet. His eyes glowed possessively as he stood back long enough to gaze at her nude form. 

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured. Tenderly he cupped the fullness of her breasts, raking his thumbs slowly over the firmly pebbled nipples. Halloth sighed with pleasure and paused in her task of trying to rid him of his shirt. He bent his head to draw a nipple between his teeth, teasing it with his tongue, making her ache between her thighs even more. 

Halloth closed her eyes and clutched his arms for support as he gave each nipple the same treatment. At last he raised his head, and, with a smile, kissed her again. She determinedly set to work unhooking the remaining clasps in spite of this latest distraction. She wanted to see him. Feel him. 

At last the final fastening gave way and he released her again to step back and fling it to the floor. Halloth gazed in admiration at the broad shoulders, the lean, taut waist. There were a few scars marring the skin; they made him look dangerous, even more masculine and virile. She raised a hand to trace them, smiling as his muscles flexed beneath her fingers, then she bent her head to reverently kiss each jagged, silvery mark. 

Legolas’ heart pounded even harder at the tender gesture, and he closed his eyes, feeling suddenly that he must be dreaming, but the soft touch of her tongue on his left nipple jerked him into awareness that this was real. He kicked his shoes off and began to untie the lacings of his trousers, eager to be rid of the confining material. Another spike of lust shot through him as her hands covered his, and she worked the ties free herself. She bent to pull them off his hips and down his long legs. He stepped out of the trousers at her urging and when she stood again he lifted her in his arms and deposited her onto the bed.

He covered her, settling himself between her splayed thighs, and kissed her again, long and lingering. She wanted him, wanted to feel his cock inside her, now, but he seemed in no hurry. But who could complain when his lips were on hers and his tongue was in her mouth again, fucking it gently. She gasped for air when his lips moved away, to her throat, her collarbone, her chest. He suckled the flesh there before dipping lower to capture her right nipple again. She threaded her hands in his hair, moaning as his agile tongue swirled around and flicked over the hard flesh. He was driving her mad with need, the flesh between her thighs pulsing with each tug on the sensitive and hardened bud. 

Finally, when she thought she was going to explode with need, and was on the verge of begging him, he shifted his body and eased a hand between her parted thighs. His fingers played over the silky, damp flesh before he easily slipped a finger inside her and stroked along her walls. It was enough, and not. “Legolas,” she breathed.

“Yes?” he asked, withdrawing the finger to put in his mouth. He licked it clean with a wicked gleam in his eye. “Ci sui 'lî erin lam nîn. I think I need another taste.”

“Oh, gods,” she whispered, her heart catching again. Before she could say anything else he moved down between her thighs, urging them further apart. He turned his head and pressed soft kisses to the inside of her thighs, trailing his lips toward their apex, closer and closer. Halloth’s hands gripped the blanket while her stomach fluttered in anticipation. 

Legolas’ blood roared in his veins, in his ears. She was glistening with wetness, her pussy swollen in her arousal, her scent beckoning him. With a low growl he swept his tongue over her from her perineum to her clit. Halloth cried out softly. He did it again and her hips lifted off the bed toward him. Legolas smiled to himself and with his fingers spread her wider. He lapped at her several times more, then paused and blew gently. 

Above him Halloth whimpered, and he licked her again, savouring the feel and taste of her. She was so wet for him and he ached to bury his cock inside her again. Later he would pleasure her this way until she came, but ai, he needed to feel her hot slick walls around him. He moved up and over her again, positioning himself to take her, but he held still.

“Please don’t make me beg. Fill me,” Halloth whispered, raising her legs, her hands sliding to his taut ass, urging him inside her.

They both moaned as he pressed into her then, driving home in one swift stroke. Halloth gasped. He was as large as she remembered, hard and hot and thick inside her. And oh, how good he felt. She undulated her hips beneath him when he held still again as he bent his head to kiss her. 

“Ai, you sheathe me so well,” he said. 

And then he began to fuck her, long, slow, thrusts, withdrawing nearly all the way, then plunging deep inside again. Halloth clung to him. Whimpered. Nothing had ever felt this wonderful, this perfect. She wrapped her legs around him, ran her hands over his back, down to his buttocks again. 

Sweat glistened on his skin and she lifted her head to lick a drop of it off. And then impulsively she drew on the spot, marking him as he had her. Legolas gasped in surprise but smiled down at her with a mixture of tenderness and lust. She smiled back, laughter and joy bubbling up inside her. He leaned down, captured her lips again as he caressed her face with one hand. Halloth did not know what came over her, but when it brushed close to her lips she caught his thumb and sucked it into her mouth, swirled her tongue around it.

“Fuck,” he grunted, his voice thick, heavy, and the pace of his thrusts increased. 

Halloth gasped with pleasure with each stroke. She raked her short nails down his back, his ass. “More,” she whispered.

Legolas braced himself on one hand as he pumped his cock into her soft, silken warmth. He watched her as his fingers found her clit and began to stroke it. She moaned, her features contorting with pleasure. It was beautiful to see, but he wanted to watch her let go. “Come for me, sweetheart,” he softly commanded.

And she did. Eyes closed, one liquid mass of pleasurable sensation, she came, her body trembling, her pussy convulsing. She cried out, her voice catching, breaking at the end. Legolas shifted again, lifted her ass, his grip painfully tight as he drove into her. He paused, grunted her name, and she felt him come in hot bursts, making her spasm again and again around him, clinging to him, digging her nails into his flesh.

Halloth lay there panting as Legolas bent his head toward her for another kiss. He did not leave her and she could well understand, for she could not move herself. She was limp with pleasure, drained. To her surprise, Legolas was not. Her eyes widened when she felt him twitch inside her, still hard.

“You want more?” she asked. Ai, she did too, but surely he could not be ready again so soon. 

“I’ve been too long without you,” he murmured, his gaze holding hers.

And Halloth could only nod in agreement, for she felt the same way herself. 

 

Ci sui 'lî erin lam nîn. You are like honey on my tongue.


	17. Chapter 17

Halloth stirred, coming to awareness, though not sure at first what had caused it. Swiftly she realised what had awakened her. Legolas was spooned behind her, one bare arm wrapped around her middle and his strong lean body pressing against her back. Warm breath ghosted past her ear, sending shivers of pleasure down her spine. 

She turned carefully in his arms, not wanting to wake him in case he slept. She took the opportunity to study his handsome face in what remained of the flickering candlelight. What she saw surprised her and made her heart skip a beat. She had seen him in many guises: the fierce warrior, the gentlemanly prince, the roguish scoundrel, the doting father, the passionate lover; and now, in repose, he looked like an innocent boy. 

Halloth nearly giggled at the thought; he had probably not been innocent since the day he had come of age, not if tonight was any indication. He had taken her to such heights of ecstasy as she had never known, and in more ways than she had ever imagined. No, he was no naïve youth, but he did resemble one with the little half smile on his face and his sleep-mussed hair. As she watched him Halloth found herself slipping a little more under his spell. Was it possible to love so much, and so quickly? For she did, more than she could have believed she was capable of.

Legolas blinked and focussed his gaze on her, as he had been roused by her movement, in more than one way. He wanted to reach out and pull her close, make love to her until she cried out her pleasure yet again. Instead he brushed a stray lock of hair from her brow and tucked it behind her ear, wondering at the open vulnerability on her face. Lowering his hand to caress her cheek, he asked, “Is everything all right?”

“Yes, everything’s all right,” she said, turning her head to press her lips against his rough palm before gazing at him again. “I was just thinking about things.”

His eyes searched hers. “Good thoughts, I hope.”

“Aye, very good,” she answered. 

Legolas smiled and covered her lips with his, gliding them gently over where he had ravaged earlier. When he drew back his expression was tender. “I love you, you know. I have from the first.”

Halloth’s breath caught in her throat at his confession and her eyes glistened with tears. She blinked them back, lest he think wrongly of them. Smiling past them, she softly told him, “I’m in love with you too, Legolas.”

It was his turn to catch his breath, and for the longest time he could not speak. This he had hoped for but to be granted such a gift. . . He crushed her close and held her.

“I only wanted a new life when I decided to come here,” Halloth said, her voice muffled against his throat. “I didn’t count on someone like you. I didn’t count on you at all.” 

He drew away and tilted her chin up so that he could see her face. “Will you tell me now what happened, Halloth? What made you leave Lothlorien? If you’d rather not say I’ll understand, but--.” 

“No, I’ll tell you,” she said firmly, placing her hand against his lips. She swallowed hard and glanced away, then back at him. It was time he knew. Past time, perhaps. Lovers should have no secrets between them. “My last lover-my first and only lover until you-was. . . Let us just say he liked to spread his attentions around. Many tried to warn me, my sister among them, but I wouldn’t listen. I didn’t want to listen. But then I caught him one night with another, and I saw how truthful everyone had been.” 

Legolas frowned as he listened, but he said nothing. This certainly explained her behaviour since he had known her. She had been lied to, hurt; no wonder she had held him and every other unattached male at bay with her icy walls. Not that he could blame her. It would be hard to let someone get close again after such betrayal, and he did not think he would react any differently than she had.

“I’m sorry,” he offered at last. “Did you love him?” 

Halloth hesitated for a moment. Had she? Perhaps. But she had been humiliated as much as hurt to find out that everyone had been right, that he really was a lying, cheating scoundrel. Had it been jealousy over a straying lover or merely anger? Brow furrowed, she whispered, “I don’t know. I thought so, but now I’m not so sure.” 

“And you left because of this.”

“Yes,” she answered. “Perhaps I wouldn’t have had it only been the once, had his infidelity not been public knowledge. I don’t know. As it was, I couldn’t remain there, and I swore I would never let myself get close to anyone again. I never meant to hurt you. I just didn’t want to feel the things you made me feel.”

“That’s why you ran off the night we fucked in the kitchen.” 

Halloth blushed at both his blunt language and the memory of their frantic coupling on the table. “Yes.”

Legolas nodded, remembering the anger and terror that had flashed in her eyes. She had been afraid, but she seemed to have let go of that fear now. He felt humbled and grateful that she would give him a chance after being so used and so unwilling to open her heart to further hurt. 

He thought of telling her of his father’s promise to Lord Elrond, but decided not to. It would do no good to reveal it, at least just yet. Besides, he had already given his answer to his father. Surely there was no point in bringing it up now. He would tell her everything, of course, but only if it somehow came up. Their relationship was so new and her willingness to trust too precious to risk. 

“He lost much, but I don’t pity him,” Legolas said instead, his frown deepening. “The man was a fool, nay, worse, for who could want another lover when he had you?” 

He looked fierce and protective, and tears again sprang to Halloth’s eyes. Again she blinked them back. “You don’t think me cold, or boring in bed?”

Her question made his heart ache, and Legolas pulled her back into his arms. He let his hands roam soothingly over her bare skin, offering comfort. “Sweetheart, if that was his excuse he’s not only a fool but a bad lover as well. You’re anything but, in any way. And watching you come is like an aphrodisiac. You’re so wild and yet you seem so surprised. I will never tire of the sight.”

This time a tear did escape. If she did not already love him she thought she might have fallen for him right then and there. “Perhaps I am,” she confessed, blushing again. “Surprised, that is. He was not so considerate a lover as you. Until the other day I’d never experienced, um, pleasure in lovemaking.” 

“You’d never had an orgasm?” Legolas drew back slightly and stared at her. “What kind of man would leave you wanting? Nay, don’t answer. ‘Tis perfectly obvious what sort of man--a witless, selfish, contemptible bastard.”

“I don’t want to talk about him anymore. I don’t want to spoil tonight,” Halloth replied, though she smiled at Legolas’ choice of words, her heart warming again that he would defend her so.

“What do you want then, hmm?” he asked, his gaze turning tender and heated. “Shall I show you again how desirable you are?” 

She shook her head and leaned toward him, pressing her lips against his as she urged him onto his back. 

“Nay. I want to show you how desirable you are,” Halloth whispered at last.

She followed this declaration by kissing her way down his throat and then his chest. Her lips found his nipples and she playfully teased them with her tongue until they were hard. Legolas gasped, his hands tangling in her hair, as Halloth suckled first one tight bud, then the other. Slipping lower, she dipped her tongue into his navel and felt his shudder, his muscles jumping beneath her fingertips.

Legolas shivered with anticipation as she then brought her mouth close to the head of his cock. Her tongue lapped at the sensitive skin and then slowly she let it slide down the length of his shaft, to his balls. Back up toward the tip she licked and then suddenly she engulfed him. Her mouth was hot and wet and felt oh, so good as she worked it down and back up, her tongue sliding, lapping. He moaned and once more caught handfuls of her hair in his fists. 

Almost forcefully he urged her to halt. After what she had just revealed he could not let her suck him off, in spite of his body’s scream for just that. Right now her pleasure was more important. He drew her up against him, then caught her hips. At her questioning gaze he shook his head. “Ride me.”

Halloth hesitantly shifted until the head of his cock brushed against her slickened pussy. She had never done this before, and she worried that she would not be able to give him any pleasure at all. Legolas raised his hips slightly, urging her to take him in, and Halloth slowly impaled herself on his hard length. Her low moan as the hot throbbing flesh filled her echoed around them and Legolas smiled before whispering how wonderful she felt to him, how hot and tight. She tried not to blush at his words as she lifted herself, her walls clasping at him, then slipped back down. She closed her eyes. Ai, this was good. So good.

She opened them again and looked down at Legolas. He was watching her intently, his gaze heated, his face contorted with pleasure. Leaning down, her breasts brushing against his chest, she kissed him long and deep before sitting back once more. Again and again she rose and sank back down on his thick cock. Pleasure rippled through her until she thought she could stand no more. Her head fell back, and her eyes close again.

“Legolas, oh Valar!” she panted.

He caught her hips again, helping her steady herself as her movements grew erratic. At the same time he thrust up into her eager body. “Yes, melethen, show me how good it feels.”

Halloth tried to hold her eyes open as she rode through her orgasm, Legolas praising her all the while. She screamed at the almost unbearable ecstasy, unable to keep the pleasure all inside. It was too much. Legolas’ grip on her tightened almost painfully as his own release broke over him. She collapsed atop him, her whole body tingling and pliant. He drew face toward his, kissing her fiercely, tenderly. 

“Such passion, such kindness and such beauty,” he said, caressing her face, with shaking hands. “Eru has truly blessed me.”

Halloth smiled. She did not dispute his words, but she felt that it was she who had been given a great treasure: a love worth fighting for.


	18. Chapter 18

It was late the next evening and Halloth had begun to set out ingredients for the morning meal when the sensation of being watched and a frisson of heat travelled up her spine. She turned and smiled softly at Legolas as he moved from the doorway toward her. 

He pulled her into his arms, food-stained apron and all. Halloth pressed even closer, craving the feel of his taut body against hers. His lips claimed hers as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He brushed them over her own in gentle, persuasive strokes that left her breathless and trembling. Wanting. How quickly he could make her wanting.

“Long day?” he asked, releasing her reluctantly. 

“No more than usual,” Halloth replied. “But I’m not complaining. I love the work and I’m happy to be useful here. I just have a bit to finish here if you want to wait.” 

Legolas leaned against the table and watched as she grabbed a handful of walnuts and swiftly chopped them. She looked as competent as any warrior he had seen on the battlefield. “Did you always want to be a cook?”

“Aye, from the time I was an Elfling. I would watch my mother cook and pester her to let me help.” She set the nuts aside and covered them. “One day she relented, and I’ve been cooking ever since.” 

“That must have been nice, to have a choice about your vocation,” Legolas remarked. 

Halloth looked at him. “I suppose I never thought about it, but yes, I’ve been lucky in that regard. But you’re the son of a king, so of course you’ve had your whole life dictated by who and what you are. Did you never want to take off and do what you wanted?”

“On occasion, but that would be selfish of me, and irresponsible. As you discerned I have longed to travel more,” Legolas admitted, “but my duty comes first. Though don’t mistake me, I don’t resent it. I love my family and my home, and I would gladly give my life to protect both.”

“I hope you never have to,” Halloth replied, her voice low and thick as it forced its way past the lump of mingled pride and fear in her throat. “For your loved ones sakes as well as your own.”

“So far I’ve been able to deny Mandos a chance to house my soul. And now I have one more reason to come home,” he replied softly. 

Halloth smiled. “And one more person to watch and wait for you,” she said, light fingertips caressing his brow.

He caught her hand as she slowly withdrew it and ran a thumb over the back of it. “Are you really in the mood for minstrel song?”

“Nay,” Halloth replied, shaking her head. “I would rather be alone with you. But I don’t want to keep you from your family and friends. And what of Arassel?” 

“I’ve spent nearly all day with them, and in any case, they will understand. As for Arassel, I tucked her into bed before I came here. Her nurse is with her now and will send for me if anything happens. I’m all yours.”

Legolas’ smile was sensual and predatory, and Halloth nearly clutched the table to hold herself upright. If he was hers why did she feel like the main course of a feast spread before him? Not that she minded in the least; on the contrary, she found his blatant desire for her exciting.

Hand in hand they walked back to her room. Once inside Legolas barred the door, and turned to find Halloth already moving into his arms. Their mouths met, brushing, caressing, tasting. Halloth closed her eyes as Legolas slid his hands up to her throat, stroking the sensitive skin with his thumbs. Her lips parted, and when his tongue swept inside, her own duelled softly with it. He drew her close, cupping her bottom so that her softness was cradled against his erection. 

Lust filled him, and all he could think of was being inside her again. Halloth seemed of a like mind, for she nearly tore his shirt as she undid the fastenings. Legolas shrugged it impatiently off his shoulders and down his arms, then he pressed her back against the wall and tugged the laces of his trousers apart. He pushed her dress up over her hips and lifted her effortlessly so that she was poised above his rock-hard shaft. Slowly he lowered her until her tight pussy enveloped him. He held still, just for a moment, relishing the feel of her velvet-soft heat before he thrust into her like a starving man. 

But Halloth was just as hungry. She tightened her legs around his waist, dug her nails into his shoulders. Her soft cries of pleasure echoed around the room, mingling with his own deep groans. She did not mind the cold stone against her back or that each thrust slammed her against it. All she cared about was him, the way he felt, the way he made her feel. Through the fabric of her dress Legolas unerringly found a nipple and drew it into his mouth. Halloth spasmed, ecstasy washing over her in pulsing waves. Legolas drove into her even harder than before and soon she felt his release bathing her in hot bursts. Halloth shuddered again as he possessively groaned her name and buried her face between her breasts. 

They collapsed together onto the floor, panting raggedly from their exertion.

“I don’t want to move,” Halloth gasped.

“I don’t think I can,” Legolas answered.

But his grin told her otherwise and when he stood and carried her to the bed, Halloth knew she was in for another long night. She could hardly wait for it to continue.

~~~~~

“Good morning, Legolas. May I speak with you?” Mereniel asked brightly.

Legolas nodded and stepped aside for his sister to enter the main room of his apartment. Her eyes were sparkling with happiness and she seemed to bounce more than usual as she turned to face him. It was early the next morning and he had just come from Halloth’s chamber when Mereniel had knocked on his door, which led him to wonder if she had lain in wait for him to return.

“What is it?” 

“Elrohir asked me to marry him last night.”

“Congratulations,” he murmured, moving close and kissing her forehead. “I’m happy for you, dearest.”

“Thank you,” she replied. “I feel happy. I feel. . . as if I could fly.”

Her brother smiled. He knew the feeling well himself. He felt as if he could take on Sauron himself. “What did you want to ask me?”

“Will you talk to Ada? You know what he’s said in the past about Elrohir and Elladan hunting Orcs instead of keeping their own borders safe, how irresponsible he thinks them. I don’t want him to dismiss Elrohir’s suit out of hand.”

“Yes, but he would never deny you your happiness because of that. Besides, being married will make Elrohir settle down somewhat, I imagine.”

“Still, will you talk to Ada, put in a good word for Elrohir?”

Legolas nodded. “Yes, if it will put your mind at ease, I’ll talk to him. Though how much he’ll listen remains to be seen.”

“Thank you,” Mereniel said, hugging him briefly. She drew back, her smile broadening. “Now, tell me, how are things going between you and Halloth?”

“A gentleman doesn’t tell,” he gently chided, but he could not contain his own smile. 

“Fine. I’ll just ask her then,” she answered.

“Brat.”

Mereniel pulled her tongue at him. “But you look happy too, brother, so can I assume that you’ve at least reached an accord?”

“You can.”

“I knew it! I knew she couldn’t help but fall in love with you. Oh, I’m so glad for you both!”

“So am I,” Legolas said. 

“I’d better get going,” Mereniel announced. “I’ll see you at breakfast, brother.”

And with a flurry of skirts she let herself out. Legolas chuckled, shaking his head fondly after her. He went then to check on his daughter, who was still sleeping.

“Good morrow, Ada,” Arassel said brightly when he gently shook her to wakefulness. She threw her arms around his neck and planted a kiss on his cheek.

“Good morrow, sweetheart. Are you hungry? ‘Tis nearly breakfast time.”

She scrambled out of bed, throwing the blankets to the side. “Aye, I’m famished. Do you think there will be any of those nice treats Halloth sent last time?”

“Perhaps,” Legolas said. He ruffled her hair then started to leave but turned back. “What do you think of Halloth?”

“I like her,” Arassel replied. “She makes me honey cakes and she doesn’t mind if I come to the kitchen to visit her.”

“What do you think of her joining our family?” he asked carefully.

“Are you going to adopt her too?”

“Nay,” Legolas answered, chuckling slightly. “I want to ask her to be my wife.”

Arassel thought for several moments. “And would she be my new Nana? Could I call her so?”

“I don’t see why not.”

“Then that would be all right, I think. I would like to have a new Nana.”

Legolas smiled and kissed the top of her head. “And who could not love you for a daughter? Now then, hurry and get dressed,” he said, rising again. “I’ll be waiting for you.”

~~~~~

“Have you come to your senses?” Thranduil asked without preamble as his eldest son entered his study just before luncheon. He had a mound of papers before him but pushed them aside and gave all his attention to Legolas.

Legolas nodded once. “Yes, and no. I will wed, Father, as you have often said that I should. But I will marry Halloth.”

Thranduil’s brow furrowed. “Halloth? My new cook?”

“The same.”

“That’s a little sudden, isn’t it? And what of my promise to Elrond?”

“I’ve given my answer before. Written and signed or not, you were both in your cups. It isn’t binding, and I won’t honour it. I’ll wed for love or not at all. Just as you did.”

“That was different. I didn’t expect to come to the throne.”

“Even so, were you any less a king because you married Naneth and not a lady of higher rank?”

“No.”

“And you were happy, weren’t you, Ada?”

Thranduil sighed and closed his eyes. “Yes, I was happy.”

“Then why would you have me bind myself to one I cannot give my soul to? Would you doom me to less than what you had with Nana?” Legolas asked earnestly. “I do not love Arwen except as a sister and if her destiny lies elsewhere, who is Elrond to seek to change it?”

“You have a point, and I would not deny you a chance at happiness,” Thranduil conceded after a moment, “but what of an alliance with Imladris?”

“Elrohir has asked Mereniel to marry him,” Legolas told his father. “There is your alliance. And think what you like of he and Elladan’s errantry, you know he would stop at nothing to keep Mereniel safe. And he would settle down if it pleased her.”

“Aye,” Thranduil replied, stroking his chin thoughtfully. “He does seem to dote on her. You and Mereniel should have your choice of mates. And Orelon whenever he gets around to it. I’ll just have to think of something to tell Elrond.”

“Remind him of what we spoke of just now. And here is a letter from me and one from the Brethren,” Legolas said, drawing the pieces of parchment from a pocket. “I’ve given my answer to him directly and they’ve written urging him against the course he’s trying to choose for Arwen.” 

“A multi-pronged campaign?” 

“I learned from the best.”

“Very well,” Thranduil said, grinning. “I’ll write. And you have my blessing, Legolas, to wed as you wish. Now, if you see that whelp Elrohir, send him here right away. I want to make him squirm a bit.”

“Aye, Father,” Legolas replied, returning the smile. He bowed slightly and hurried out the door, brushing past the waiting messenger without a second look.


	19. Chapter 19

“You’re in a good mood,” Medwen remarked.

Halloth glanced at her from the stove where she was testing a new mushroom based sauce. She realised she had been humming and blushed slightly. “Is it that obvious?”

“Such a nice change from when you first arrived,” Cuguneth observed. “You’ve been nothing but smiles the last few days.

“Would it have anything to do with a certain prince?” Medwen asked.

Halloth looked from her to Cuguneth and then to Linnien, who pretended to be stirring batter but was listening intently. She supposed they would find out sooner or later if they did not know already. They obviously suspected, for they had seen her run out to watch Legolas spar. And though she was not used to sharing her private life with others she could not contain her joy either. It filled her so completely she had to let just a little of it out. 

“Aye, it would,” she admitted softly.

Linnien clapped her hands together. “I knew it!”

“Well, it was easy enough to see,” Medwen said, “especially when you blushed as you’re doing now whenever his name was mentioned.”

“You don’t think I’m over-reaching?”

“Why would anyone think that?” Cuguneth asked. “If you love each other who are we to think ill of it? Who is anyone? His Highness is a good man, and we’re all happy for you. For both of you.”

Halloth gave them all a watery smile. “We’d better get back to preparing luncheon,” she murmured. Then before she turned back to the stove she whispered, “Thank you.”

~~~~~

Halloth was alone again after the meal had been served and the dishes washed. She would take her break somewhat later on, after she had double-checked that all was ready  
for to cook the evening meal. The feeling of being watched raked unpleasantly over her nerves and she turned to the doorway, wondering who it could be. She gasped.

“Hello, Halloth,” Elhadron said, a smile plastered to his face.

She glared at him, crossing her arms over her chest. “What are you doing here?”

“What, no greeting for your lover?”

“Former lover,” she reminded him. “And you don’t deserve the time of day, let alone a greeting. I’m long through with you.” She turned, dismissing him, but he caught her arm in a hard grip and jerked her back to face him. Angrily she yanked it away. “How dare you?”

Elhadron put on a contrite appearance as he dropped his hand to his side. “I’ve been put on messenger duty by Lord Celeborn. Can’t imagine why. But here I am, willing to give you one more chance. Come back to Lothlorien with me. You’ve made your point.”

“I wasn’t trying to make a point, Elhadron. You were cheating on me.”

“But I love you. I always have.”

“You have the oddest way of showing it, plowing every field you come across, it seems.”

His eyes widened at her words. He had expected this to be easy. She had been besotted with him before she had found him with Gorneth. “All right, yes, you caught me fucking someone else--.”

“But it wasn’t the only time, though, was it? How many pairs of thighs did you pull yourself from between to come to my bed? No wonder you never satisfied me. You didn’t have the strength.” She could not be blamed for the surge of triumph that rushed through her at the look that crossed his face. 

“You bitch!” He grabbed her by the forearms and shook her.

“Unhand me you, you deceitful dog! I’m not going anywhere with you.”

~~~~~

Legolas took a sip of wine and eyed the chess board carefully. “You’ve fenced me in quite nicely,” he congratulated Elladan.

“Lots of practice,” the older twin answered, shrugging. He glanced at his brother, who was still pacing. “You’ve gone through the roughest part, ‘Ro. You’ve won the lady and her father’s given permission. Stop moving about. You’re distracting us.”

“Sorry,” Elrohir said, flushing slightly. “I suppose I still can’t believe it. The adrenaline’s not worn off yet.”

The sudden knock upon the door to his chambers made them all three turn. Galion motioned someone behind him to enter and Legolas recognised her as one of the cooks. A sense of foreboding filled him, and he rose so quickly the table with the chess set would have toppled over if Elladan had not caught it. 

“Your Highness!” Linnien gasped as she curtsied to the crown prince. She had run all the way from the kitchen to find him after hearing raised voices and witnessing a man grabbing Halloth.

“What is it?” Legolas asked. 

“It’s Halloth. There’s a man with her and he’s hurting her--.”

“Where?”

“In the kitchen.”

“I’ll kill him,” Legolas growled.

“Don’t be hasty, Legolas,” Elladan warned. But his words went unheeded as Legolas strode from the room, and with a shared look of concern, he and Elrohir followed.

 

~~~~~

Elhadron did not release her but held her arms more tightly. “You think Prince Legolas is going to marry someone like you?”

Halloth gasped. How did he know of her and Legolas?

“He’s betrothed, Halloth, to Lord Elrond’s daughter.”

She went pale. “I don’t believe you.”

“I heard it myself. From the prince’s own lips.”

No. It was not true. There had to be some sort of mistake. Or Elhadron was lying. The Valar knew he was so good at that. And so did she. Yet Legolas had been hiding something from her since the night they had become lovers; she had sensed it. Was this it? 

Elhadron’s voice interrupted her thoughts. “Come back with me, Halloth, to where you belong.”

“No,” she answered, shaking her head. She could not go with him. Her life was here, and Legolas was here. And she would fight for him. Even if she had no chance of winning, she would fight for the man she loved. “I belong here. This is my home now.”

“Don’t you understand? He’s using you. What you’re living here is a lie.”

“No. What I thought I had with you was a lie.”

Elhadron struck her then, frustration overwhelming what good sense he had. He needed her to come back. Life was comfortable for him with Halloth cooking and cleaning for him and warming his bed when he could find no other to fill it. He drew his arm back to hit her again, but it was caught fast and before he could move he was shoved back against a wall, and a hand wrapped around his throat, pressing against his windpipe. 

“That’s the last time you’ll touch her,” a low voice warned

“Don’t do anything stupid, Legolas,” Elladan said. 

Elrohir clapped a hand onto Legolas’ shoulder. “Let your father house him a while in the dungeon, but don’t stain the kitchen with his blood. What would Halloth say?”

“Perhaps she’d like me to finish off this bastard son of an Orc.” Legolas’ hand tightened, increasing the pressure against the other male’s throat. Then it relaxed and he let the man go. “But then again maybe my intended bride would rather I didn’t. She’s more merciful than I am.”

Elhadron gasped for breath and crumpled to the floor. He blinked up at the man who had attacked him, suddenly realising who it was. The crown prince of Mirkwood himself. “You’re. . . You’re going to marry her?”

“As soon as possible,” Legolas answered, his voice grim. “And next time you see her, you’d best show her the proper respect as a princess, or I’ll cut you into so many pieces only the ants can carry you.”

Then he turned away from the other man, dismissing him with the distaste he usually reserved for Orcs. He looked around in search of Halloth and his heart fell. She had disappeared.

~~~~~

Halloth tried to calm herself, but she was unnerved, horrified and repulsed at seeing Elhadron again and his attacking her. She had hurried to her room, to the bath, fumbling shakily until she found a cloth. She poured cold water into the basin and dipped the cloth into it before pressing it to her cheek. She winced at the combination of cold and pain. Would it bruise? A touch on her arm made her jump around. She swallowed in relief when she saw that it was Legolas and not her former lover, but it was quickly overtaken by jealous anger. 

“Halloth, sweetheart, are you all right?”Legolas asked softly. He pulled the cloth away, swearing as he saw the bruise forming on her pale cheek. “Let me take you to the Healer.”

“I’m fine,” she murmured, pulling away and moving to stand next to the table. “Is it true?”

“Is what true?” Legolas asked, frowning at her behaviour.

“Are you promised to Lady Arwen?”

He released a slow breath. “I was promised to wed her, yes.”

Halloth grabbed a cup from the shelf by her table and threw it at him. He dodged it easily. 

“What was that for?”

“How could you? How could you seduce me when you’re betrothed? You’ve made me the other woman!” She wanted to cry at the irony of it, but the tears would not come.

“I’m not betrothed. Who told you I was betrothed?”

“Elhadron. He said he heard you say so.”

“And you believed him? Without even bothering to ask me.”

“I’m asking you now,” she countered. “I didn’t have time to ask you about it before because you never bothered to mention it! Are you or are you not promised to Lady Arwen?”

“My father promised hers there would be a marriage, yes, but--.”

He ducked as another cup sailed his way. 

“I warn you, I’m not going to be your leman while you wed someone else. It’s her or me, Legolas!”

“My leman? Halloth, don’t be ridiculous.” 

“Oh, so now I’m not good enough for you?”

“What in Arda are you talking about? Of course you’re good enough. More than good enough.” He moved swiftly before she could hurl something else at him and caught her roughly, pinning her arms to her sides. “Now listen—Ow!”

Halloth’s eyes glittered in triumph as a flicker of pain crossed his face, but once again he surprised her before she could react, picking her up bodily and stepping to the bed, where he deposited her. She glared up at him, legs splayed, and started to get up, but he pinned her to the bed. His hands pressed down on either side of her face, his body between her thighs, as he glared right back. Halloth tried to push upward, to get away, but she was no match for his strength. 

“Now, listen to me,” he grated out. “I am not betrothed to Arwen. I’m not going to be. There is nothing-nothing-between Arwen and me. My father promised when I was born that I would marry her. Elrond is trying to avoid a fate he’s foreseen by latching onto my father’s drunken offer all those years ago. That’s all.”

Halloth gazed at him, searching his face as her struggles slowly ceased. “You’re not betrothed?”

“No. I’m not. And I didn’t tell you because I’d already refused to marry her.”

Halloth closed her eyes. If possible she felt even worse than she had a few moments ago. What had she done? Had she ruined everything by her jealousy? “Gods, I’m so sorry. I didn’t know what to think. I didn’t want to believe him. I was going to find you and ask you for the truth, and then Elhadron became violent and you came. . .” She began to shake and wondered if she was becoming hysterical as she had after the spider attack. “What you must think of me.”

“What do I think?” Legolas asked. “I think you’re beautiful when you’re jealous. I think you need to learn to trust me.” His features grew stern and his voice low and husky. “And I think you should be punished for doubting me.”


	20. Chapter 20

“What do you mean punished?” 

Halloth pushed up against Legolas again, a frisson of fear rippling down her spine that he would consider such a thing. 

“You heard me.” 

His voice was hard and yet seductive too. Halloth had no idea what to think. “I’m not a child. You can’t punish me.”

“And we can’t have a relationship without trust between us, don’t you agree.”

“Yes, but--.”

“All men are not like your last lover, Halloth. Some of us can be faithful. Some of us are. I love you, Halloth, but you have to learn to trust me completely. Just as I trust you.”

He moved swiftly, shifting until he was seated on the bed. Before Halloth could jump up he had had dragged her across his lap and held her there. It suddenly occurred to her what he meant to do, and there was no way she would let him. She kicked, she squirmed, but she could not get away, and in fact it only aided Legolas in pulling her skirts up to expose her ass. But now excitement mingled with the fear running through her veins as she felt his arousal pressing against her, excitement and anger. 

“I won’t hurt you, at least not more than you can bear.” He ran his hand over the round globes of her bottom displayed so enticingly across his lap. “I’ll stop when you want me to. Just say ‘knives’.”

“You wouldn’t dare,” she said with as much dignity as she could muster in her present position. She squirmed again on his lap, trying to ignore the sensation of his silk tunic against her flesh, a soft, cool contrast to her flushed body.

“You’d be surprised what I’d dare,” he reminded her. Then he brought his hand down on her ass.

Halloth gasped at the sharp sting of pain. “Let me up,” she demanded, kicking her legs again. “You can’t do this to me.” She felt Legolas’ erection twitch and her breath caught in her throat.

“I don’t think so.” 

His hand came down again, and Halloth bit back a cry. This one was harder than the first. But strangely it did not hurt as badly as she thought it might. It did hurt, but somewhere, somehow, a jolt of pleasure spiked through her. Ai, how could she like this? How could it feel good? 

Legolas’ hand stroked lovingly over her reddened skin. “You’re doing well, sweetheart,” he murmured.

The third slap came down, the sound echoing in the room. Halloth did cry out then as the force of it caused her clit to press against his thigh. “Oh!” But she was not supposed to like this. She was angry with him for treating her thus. “Let me up,” she said again.

“You haven’t said the word,” he told her, his voice thick and his hand shaking as he caressed her ass again. This time he let it dip lower, past the swell of muscle toward the softness between her thighs. “Your pussy’s wet,” he told her. “You like being punished, don’t you. Can it be you don’t want me to stop?”

“I do. Please stop,” Halloth panted. But a part of her brain did not want him to. Helpless as she was she knew that Legolas was just as excited, just as caught up in this game or whatever it was. She could hear it in his voice, could feel it by the way his cock twitched each time he struck her and she responded. 

“One more then, hmm?” His hand came down a fourth time. “Can you handle five?”

Halloth shook her head. Her body was on fire, her mind confused by the sensations coursing through her. Her anger and indignation had fled and in their places was eager anticipation. And desire.

“I think you can handle five,” Legolas said. He raised his hand and brought it down again. He watched as the sharp blow made her ass wiggle slightly. His breath ragged, he stroked her abused flesh softly before once again penetrating her with a finger. Ai, how was it possible for him to be more aroused than he had yet been with her? 

“Say the word, Halloth,” he urged. “Say it and I’ll stop.”

She wriggled again, trying to press back more onto his finger as he maddeningly teased her with just the tip of it. Would he slap her again, she wondered. Did she want him to? Yes, she did, but she wanted him to stop too, wanted to know he would stop. His finger left her and she knew his hand was raised again, poised to strike.

“Knives,” she gasped. 

The blow did not come. Instead Legolas drew her up and onto his lap, facing him. His eyes searched hers. He kissed her long and thoroughly, claiming her, loving her mouth with his lips and tongue. “Are you all right?” he asked tenderly, when he drew back.

Halloth nodded shakily. “I think so.”

“Good,” he said. Then he pulled her dress over her head and manoeuvred her so that once more she was face down, but not across his lap this time. He stood and stripped, then re-joined her on the bed.

“What are you doing?” she asked.

“Trust me,” he said, leaning over her to close his mouth over the tip of her ear.

Halloth melted at the caress and then waited breathlessly to see what he meant to do. For a moment there was nothing, then callused hands stroked gently over her skin. She sighed with pleasure, but gasped when she felt his mouth and tongue gliding over her left foot. The sensation continued up her leg, until he paused to lap at the tender skin behind her knee. 

The tender nibble of his teeth increased the pleasant torture, causing her to writhe in sweet agony, on the edge, hoping he would continue up to her throbbing pussy. It took all Halloth could do not to turn her head to see where he would move next, and she almost came off the bed again when his tongue slid up toward her mound, never touching, but always teasing. He continued the journey upward, pressing kisses to her bottom where he had spanked her. Gently he urged her to her hands and knees.

“Gods, Legolas, I want. . .”

“What do you want, melethen? My cock in your cunt? Or my tongue, tasting your sweet cream?”

Halloth shivered, blushing at the hot words. “I want. . .”

“Say it. You have such a beautiful cunt. How do you want me to pleasure it?” He moved behind her spread thighs. “Tell me.”

“Fuck me, Legolas, please,” Halloth whispered. 

But he had heard her. He shoved forward, slowly, teasing her still until he was buried to the hilt. Halloth moaned and pressed back toward him. Needing, wanting, she shivered at the wonderful feeling of him inside her and begged him to move. He complied before the words had left her lips, setting a pace that had her gasping with each deep thrust. 

“Good?”

“So good.”

Before long Halloth was mindlessly chanting his name and holding desperately onto the headboard as ecstasy rushed through her. She was close, so close. . . Halloth nearly screamed in frustration when he stopped.

“I like to watch you come, remember?”

He urged her onto her back and when he entered her again Halloth pulled him down for a kiss and wrapped her legs around his lean waist. “I like to watch you too.”

This time he made love to her slowly, until Halloth thought she might lose her mind with the pleasure building and building inside her. “I love you,” she panted.

“I love you too.” He withdrew until only the head of his cock was inside her, his gaze dark and intent as he searched hers. “And do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she gasped. He might hurt her but never intentionally; his heart and soul were pure. And they were hers. “I trust you.”

He smiled tenderly and thrust back into her, setting a new rhythm, a wilder, fiercer rhythm than before, one that had Halloth crying out as she came and Legolas praising her as she let the feelings carry her away. Then Legolas gave himself over to his own release as his stomach and his balls tightened, and he drove into her forcefully again and again. 

Spent, he lowered his head and kissed Halloth again before rolling to his back and pulling her atop him. 

“You’re truly all right?” he asked softly. “I didn’t hurt you?”

“Nay, you did not. But I did not expect that.”

“Sometimes it is a thing I like, to mix pleasure and pain--but never harm,” he explained carefully. His gaze searched hers. “But only if you want it too. I would never hurt you, Halloth. Not for all the world.”

“I know.” She smiled. “In my heart I’ve always known that.”

“And you’re not angry with me for spanking you?”

“Only a little. And yet I was. . . aroused,” she admitted, blushing and looking away.

He caught her chin and drew her face back toward his. “Don’t ever be ashamed of liking anything we do in bed,” he said gently. 

“I’m not ashamed,” she replied softly. “I just didn’t know that I could feel pleasure from it. I have so much to learn, it seems, about such things.”

“We’ll have a lifetime of discoveries, Halloth, if you’ll wed me. Will you?” he asked, his gaze tender and loving. “Will you be my wife and bind your soul to mine?”

Halloth’s eyes widened and then she smiled. “Yes, oh yes,” she said, a light flurry of lips pressed to his forehead, a cheek, his jaw. And once more, for emphasis, just before she covered his mouth with hers in a deeper kiss. “Yes.” 

~~~~~

Over the next fortnight messenger hawks flew from Thranduil’s mews to Imladris and back again. Lord Elrond at last relented, seeing wisdom in the words of each letter sent to him and admitted he had panicked out of fear of losing his daughter to the same fate he had lost his twin brother. 

For striking his future law-daughter Thranduil sentenced Elhadron to those two weeks mucking out the royal stables, and when he was not there, he was housed in the dungeon. One additional hawk carried news of his behaviour to Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Those two, he was certain, would see to even more fitting punishment. Legolas was somewhat mollified, but he made sure the man remembered his warning before he returned south.

Legolas and Halloth planned to wed in the summer rather than wait the traditional year. They were both of an age to know their hearts and minds, and they were sure in their love. Halloth would have been glad to wed him before the winter was through, but Legolas insisted on courting her properly. 

The remaining weeks before Yule passed quickly, and in addition to the usual festivities, there was to be a celebration in honour of her and Legolas’ betrothal, as well as his sister’s and Elrohir’s. Halloth was in the midst of preparing for the upcoming feast one day when she emerged from the pantry with an armful of baking supplies when she felt a shiver of awareness rush down her spine and when she spied the cause of it another thrill followed the first. 

Legolas was in the kitchen near the table. He wore a cloak and tall boots, and a pair of gloves was tucked into his belt. Arassel was with him, and Halloth turned her attention to the little girl. Like her ada, the child was dressed to go outdoors. 

“We’re going to play in the snow,” Arassel announced, skipping over to give Halloth a hug.

Halloth squeezed her in return. “Are you now? That sounds fun.”

“Papa said you could come too, if you weren’t too busy. Can you, Halloth?”

Halloth looked back at Legolas and noticed that he held a pair of boots in his left hand. Though she had never been one to shirk her duties, the idea of joining her betrothed and his daughter was tempting. Why not? There was not much to do here now, and Medwen and Linnien would soon return; she could spare a little time. She looked at the dark-haired elleth a little awkwardly just the same. 

“Cuguneth, can you finish this?”

“Aye, of course,” the other woman answered, smiling. 

The three of them walked her back to her chambers for her cloak and gloves, and she tugged on the soft leather boots in place of the shoes she usually wore. They were a bit snug but she would not be wearing them long. 

“I’m ready,” she said, and Legolas drew her to her feet. She wanted to kiss him, wanted him to kiss her. He did not, but his eyes held hers, smouldering with promise, as he stroked the back of her hand. Desire pooled low in her belly and her heart pounded with excitement.

“Hurry,” Arassel said, “the best snow will be gone soon.”

“The best snow for what?” Halloth wondered.

“We’re going to build a man of snow,” the little girl explained. “Just as we did last year.”

Halloth had never heard of such, but the child seemed eager, and so did Legolas. The three of them walked outside together. Like a family. Eyes misting, she glanced at Legolas, and as if he sensed her thoughts he looked at her. It was no heated gaze, but one filled with tenderness, and Halloth felt again that sense of rightness. Belonging. 

The snow was deeper than the last time she had been out in it. She watched as Arassel bounded ahead, whooping gleefully, calling for them both to join her as she began gathering a pile of snow.

It was arduous work, in Halloth’s view, but Legolas and Arassel seemed to relish it. She spent more time watching them, loving the way they looked together, father and daughter. . .

“No shirking,” his voice interrupted her thoughts at the same time something white and round plopped against her cape. 

“Oh!” 

She glanced down. Snow. He had thrown a ball of snow at her. Narrowing her eyes, she bent over and scooped up some of the stuff. She would show him. Her effort was pitiful, but it hit him on his chest anyway. She laughed delightedly, only to run the opposite way as Legolas began to stride across the snow toward her. Her hit her back as she darted behind a tree.

After that the game was on, with snowballs flying back and forth. Arassel laughed and cheered first for one then the other, though of course she favoured her papa more. In the end the impromptu fight was settled when Legolas caught Halloth, picked her up and deposited her in a spot of unsullied powder. 

“I’ll get you for that,” she sputtered, but the effect was ruined by her laughing. She could not recall when she had ever had this much fun.

“Promise?” he asked softly, taking her hand and pulling her to her feet. 

“Just you wait,” she murmured, a teasing smile on her lips. “Just you wait.”


	21. Chapter 21

Legolas gazed at his wife as she rose from her bath, water cascading down her long limbs and her freshly washed hair falling sleekly down her back. He held her hand as she stepped out of the tub and onto the thick mat beside it before reaching for the nearby towel. Carefully, he helped her dry off.

“I feel as graceful as a troll,” Halloth said, sighing, as Legolas dipped to run the towel over one shapely calf and then the other. “And I’m sure I’m just as big.” 

Legolas rose again and rested a hand on her swollen belly. “You are as beautiful as you were on our wedding night,” he told her. “Perhaps even more so, for you carry our child.”

Halloth’s eyes misted. “You always know the right thing to say.”

“I should think after seventy years I would,” he answered lightly, earning him a playful swat on his arm. He tossed the towel aside. “Come, let me help you into bed.”

She let out a surprised laugh as he scooped her up into his arms. A moment later he laid her down upon their bed. It was not as large as the one they had shared in Mirkwood, but it was their own, just as this large house in North Ithilien was their own. Nearly a year they had been here, in this land. They had made it their home, and their child had been conceived and would be born here.

Halloth sighed in relief, glad to take the pressure off her back as she relaxed on her side. Legolas soon joined her on the bed, settling in behind her. Warm hands began to caress her back and another, deeper sigh left her lips. “That feels good.”

Legolas raised the mass of thick hair and placed a kiss between her shoulders. “That’s why I do it.”

Halloth smiled. “You looked quite handsome this evening, the worried, yet proud and doting father. Arassel will be fine you know. Gurveleg will be good to her.”

“I know, else I would not have given my permission for them to wed.”

“Then why so quiet?” she asked, for he had said little since they had returned from the festivities.

His eyes gleamed in the semi darkness of their bedchamber. “I was just remembering our own wedding night.”

“Were you?” she asked, her pulse quickening as her own memories of their bonding night played in her head. “You looked so regal and solemn when we pledged ourselves.”

Legolas’ lips quirked upward. “The celebration lasted overlong.”

“But we made up for it afterward. You were insatiable that night.”

He curled a strand of hair around a finger. “I seem to recall your making a few demands of your own.”

“Aye, true. I could not get enough of you. I still can’t,” she whispered, her voice thick as callused fingertips caressed her right nipple.

“Do you remember the crème we nicked from the party?”

Halloth smiled again. “You fed me blueberries dipped in it.”

“I was thinking more of the way you slathered it on my cock and then licked it off me.”

“But you repaid me in kind,” she said, eyes warm. “We were a mess afterward.”

“But it was good getting that way, wasn’t it,” Legolas said, his grin wicked.

“More than good,” Halloth answered, blushing as she recalled every moment of their inventive ways eating the sweet concoction.

Legolas’ hand slipped lower, sliding over her abdomen until he reached her soft woman’s flesh. A quiver ran through Halloth, desire, hot and thick stirring in her veins as a long finger filled her.

“Legolas,” she moaned, parting her thighs to give him easier access. It was good, but not enough, not nearly enough. 

“I want you,” Legolas rasped, raising his head, pressing toward her so that his erection nudged against her leg. “I’ll always want you, Halloth.”

“Show me,” she begged.

He entered her carefully, reverently, before setting a slow, gentle rhythm until they were both nigh frantic for release. A soft caress of his fingers against her clit made Halloth gasp and shudder, and her face contort in ecstasy. Legolas did not last long past his wife’s body tightening and pulsing around him. 

Sated, he pressed kisses to her shoulders and then her lips as she turned her head to meet him. Then he settled once again close behind her, one hand resting possessively and protectively on her belly.

“I love you,” he murmured.

“And I love you,” Halloth replied, raising his hand to her lips. 

And then she sighed and settled back against her husband, warm and content. As she moved her gaze from the waiting cradle to the strong hand beneath hers, she wondered, not for the first time, how one person could be granted such happiness. But she knew of course: It was all because she had opened her heart and let it change.

 

The End

 

Gurveleg—Great Heart


End file.
